


Midnight to Dawn: A Kindred Soul

by GemNika



Series: Midnight to Dawn [2]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Bisexual Male Character, BixCo Week, BixCo Week 2017, Companion Piece, Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, Drinking, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fist Fights, Humor, Insecurity, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, Murder, Naked Cuddling, Porn Watching, Referenced Past Rape/Non-con, Romance, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 73,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemNika/pseuds/GemNika
Summary: Everyone assumed there weren't any problems in their relationship, but that really wasn't the case. Cobra's just a private person, and Bickslow doesn't see the point in involving other people in their relationship. It takes time for them to truly be on the same page, but will they be able to weather the storms of uncertainty until they find their happily ever after?





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> BixCo Week 2017. This is a companion story for 'Midnight to Dawn,' (posted on FFnet) focusing on Bickslow and Cobra. Details below.

**Welcome to BixCo Week!**

_Apriiil_  (aka  _raijindork_  on tumblr) has so very graciously organized a new pairing week. These guys really don't get nearly enough love, and I couldn't be happier about participating in this one. Huge thank you to  _Gajeely_  for the amazing cover art for BixCo Week!

I strongly urge all of you to write for it!

* * *

**Dates:** October 24, 2017 through October 31, 2017

**Prompts:**

Day 1:  _Birthday_

Day 2:  _Unconventional_

Day 3:  _Babies_

Day 4:  _Marks/Scars_

Day 5:  _Pets_

Day 6:  _Wicked_

Day 7:  _Horizon_

Bonus Day 8:  _Halloween_

* * *

This week will obviously be rated M (it's me, we're talking about... Of course that's the rating…). I'm laying down the blanket disclaimer here:

**Please be aware that this is M for a reason.**

My entries for BixCo Week will be a modern AU. Who remembers my MidLu Week entries? And you remember how BixCo was the other big pairing in that? Well, this is going to be in the same universe as that. For those of you who haven't read it and are on the verge of scouring my profile to look for MidLu Week, check out  _Midnight to Dawn_.

This will follow the same format as the MidLu side, with the chapters being more like a snippet of their lives. Instead of jumping back and forth in time, like MidLu did, I decided to shift the prompts around to make this a more linear story. There will still be timeskips though... So, even though a lot of readers don't like paying attention to author notes, please keep an eye out at the beginning of each chapter to see where in the timeline each chapter fits. Seriously, it'll help.

 _One last note:_  For those who have read  _Midnight to Dawn_ , the two chapters in my MidLu story that are dedicated almost completely to BixCo will eventually be moved over to this story instead. I was considering putting them here now after giving them some edits, but I think I'll save them for after BixCo Week is finished, that way certain things aren't spoiled completely before we get into the week! For anyone who hasn't read  _Midnight to Dawn..._ if you go and check that out, then you'll get to see the original versions of those chapters now. I'm not pulling them down until the new versions are posted under this story, and that won't happen until November.

* * *

Keep writing, reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting!

~~GemNika.


	2. Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to BixCo Week, everyone! I hope you guys enjoy the next few days of these two goobers. I decided to do this differently than I'd originally planned. Most of my inspiration to write for these two revolved around their college years, and I figured I might as well just fuck with the order of the prompts to make it a more chronological story. After BixCo week is finished, there may be a few more chapters to get posted, and those will not necessarily be in chronological order. Because of that, please keep an eye on the ages that are given at the beginning of each chapter. Those will be your guide on when things happen in the timeline.

_Erik is 19. Bickslow is 21._

* * *

Cobra's eyes narrowed slightly while looking at the enormous black pickup truck before him. He and Bickslow had been a dating for nearly six months, and this was the first time he'd seen just what his boyfriend actually drove. Considering they were in college, and pretty much everything was in walking distance, there really was no point in driving anywhere more often than not. But it was Bickslow's birthday, and Cobra had been invited to ride along with him down to his grandmother's to celebrate.

His stomach had nearly dropped out of his ass when Bickslow had asked him. In all of his dating years, not one person had wanted to take him home to meet the family. She was pushing eighty, from what he'd been told, so he could understand why Bickslow would want to spend it with her. It was just surprising that he wanted Cobra to be a part of that as well.

Part of him hoped that this was a good sign, that Bickslow was really serious about them being together.

"Are you gonna stand there all day?" Bickslow laughed when Cobra jolted, leaning across the seat to look at his tanned boyfriend through the open window. "We've gotta get going, Cobra. It's a two hour drive, and we'll probably be there past dark."

Cobra rolled his eyes and wrenched the door open, then hopped up into the truck. He really didn't know that much about trucks in the first place - honestly, who fucking cared? - but he'd never pictured Bickslow being one that would actually own one. It wasn't really a practical choice for living in the city. He buckled up and watched the scenery going by as they got further and further from the dorms.

"So, I should probably tell you some stuff," Bickslow said once they'd made it to the highway.

"Do you have an axe in the bed, and you were waiting until I couldn't jump out and run to tell me you're planning on gutting me and crawling inside my body like a fucking Tauntaun?" Hearing Bickslow's loud burst of laughter that was more cackle than anything else, actually helped to ease Cobra just a little bit.

"No," he said once he'd calmed down. "No Tauntaun-Cobra sleeping bags."

"Good, because you're taller than me. It wouldn't work." He let out a slow breath when Bickslow's hand found his own, their fingers easily intertwining on his lap. "What do you need to tell me?"

Bickslow glanced over to find bright indigo eyes gazing at him. "Well, my Memaw is kinda old fashioned."

Old fashioned. That really didn't sound good.

"She's a sweet little lady though. Just… really religious, I guess?"

"You  _guess_?" Cobra didn't have an issue with religion. Not one bit. Just because he was intelligent enough to not put all his worries on some dude sitting in the clouds, didn't mean other people couldn't.

Bickslow chuckled, but it was nervous. He squeezed Cobra's hand lightly, except he couldn't tell who it was supposed to reassure. "Okay, she's really religious. She'll make us pray before eating, head down and eyes closed and holding hands. She might offer to let you say grace before we eat, but you can just tell her that you're an atheist, and she won't push it. She'll still make you bow your head though."

"Okay…" That didn't sound  _too_  bad. Why was Bickslow making this out to be more nerve-wracking than it needed to be?

"No cursing," Bickslow continued.

"What the fuck?"

"Old fashioned," he said. "I doubt she'll wash your mouth out with soap like she used to do with me, but I'd rather not chance it."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Cobra…"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, his head dropping back to the headrest. "Fine. I'll watch my language. Anything else?"

"Yeah…"

And then he hesitated. And Cobra was left wondering why Bickslow's hand tightened around his once again. Why, when he looked over at his boyfriend, he could see the concentration in his pinched brow. "You gonna tell me?"

"Y-Yeah…"

That really did not fucking bode well for him. Cobra was sure of it.

"Memaw doesn't… Well, she doesn't know she's meeting my boyfriend."

Stomach to asshole commencing. "She…" Why in the hell wouldn't Bickslow tell her about Cobra coming along? What if he wasn't really welcome at all? Not just as the boyfriend, but as a fucking person in general. What if she wanted it to just be family? What if she wanted the only fruits around to be the ones picked from trees and sitting on the table?

"She knows you're coming," Bickslow said. "She just… doesn't…"

"Doesn't know we're dating," Cobra finished while pulling his hand from Bickslow's. The sucker punch to his gut was more painful than he would have imagined. Bickslow hadn't told his grandmother about them at all? So, was he just supposed to play the  _oh, we're just friends_  card? Bickslow hadn't seemed to mind all that much who knew they were together while on campus. He was the one who tended to sneak up on Cobra and rain kisses and playful nips along his ears and throat at random times, in random locations. Like, in front of the library in the middle of the day.

"Cobra-"

"No, it's fine," he said. It wasn't fine. He was fucking lying. Cobra knew it. Bickslow knew it. That splattered mosquito on the windshield fucking knew it. He wasn't alright with this bullshit, but it was Bickslow's birthday, and he didn't want to ruin it for him.

"I just-"

"I get it," he said. He really fucking didn't. Had the past six months meant so little to Bickslow? Sure, he'd never dated or kissed a guy before Cobra, but they were taking their time with it all. Cobra was fine with that. He'd just thought maybe things meant a little more than keeping it a secret from Bickslow's family.

"I mean, it's not like I was gonna call her up and say, 'Hey, so you know how I've been straight for forever? Well, I met this guy and he's got the cutest pointy ears-'" Cobra scowled over at Bickslow, making him chuckle. "'- and the sexiest little bubble butt, and now we're dating.'"

"Dick."

Bickslow chuckled again, reaching out for Cobra's hand while keeping his gaze on the road. "That's not something I'm gonna tell my Memaw over the phone," he said. "She's not gonna kick you out just because she doesn't approve, either."

"So, you're saying that I'm walking into some bullshit," Cobra muttered. Now wasn't that the story of his fucking life? And here he'd thought that spending time with Bickslow on his birthday was going to be something easy. Their whole relationship was actually pretty fucking easy, because he'd made sure Bickslow saw it that way. It was hard as hell for him, but he just wanted it to work out for a change.

There was so much Bickslow didn't know about, so much that Cobra wanted to tell him. But he couldn't. Because the last thing he wanted to do was scare him away. And Cobra was sure that at the first mention of a mental illness, Bickslow would book it.

"Memaw has no time for bullshit," Bickslow said. "She might be surprised by it, but…" He trailed off when he saw Cobra's knee shaking. It sucked that he was driving right then, because it was obvious that his boyfriend needed a little reassurance. "Baby, it's gonna be fine."

"I'm really not convinced it will be," Cobra said. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me this before?"

"Well, I…" Bickslow frowned in thought, carefully switching lanes to allow a semi-truck onto the highway from the upcoming on-ramp. That was a good question though. It had sort of slipped his mind beforehand, and it wasn't until he'd seen Cobra walking out of his dorm and toward the parking lot that Bickslow had even realized that he hadn't told his Memaw about their relationship. "It kinda slipped my mind."

"How does something like that just slip your fucking mind?!"

He winced then. Before he could really come up with an answer, Cobra took a deep, steadying breath and spoke again, his voice softer, more controlled.

"It's fine," he said. "I know now, and we'll just deal with it later."

"Coby-"

"No, Bix." Cobra sighed and reached out to lace his fingers with Bickslow's again, then slowly brought their joined hands up to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. "You told me now, so at least I know before we get there. I'll just follow your lead."

"Probably a good idea," Bickslow muttered. "The last thing I need is for Memaw to teach you some manners."

"Ass," Cobra chuckled. "Still, you probably should've told her before bringing me around for your fucking birthday."

"Well, I never said I was a genius," Bickslow said, his lips lifting into a small smirk. "That's your job."

"Goddamn right it is."

Bickslow glanced toward the passenger seat to find Cobra smiling at him. His leg was still shaking out of nervousness, but he could see it while looking into those deep indigo eyes. He might have been worried about what their day was going to bring, but he was willing to give this a shot. Maybe it was just that Cobra didn't want to spoil his birthday plans. Maybe he was just trying to go with the flow.

Whatever the reason, Bickslow really fucking appreciated what he was doing. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"You can make it up to me later," Cobra said softly. Bickslow shivered when he felt a light, playful nip at his knuckles. "I still haven't given you your present."

Bickslow's teeth sunk into his lower lip and he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. That had definitely not been the birthday present he'd been expecting from Cobra, but he hadn't been complaining when his shirt had been peeled off and he'd felt his boyfriend's lips caressing his skin for the first time. If it hadn't been for Laxus coming back to their dorm room, reeking of whiskey with some girl stumbling in along with him, Bickslow knew things would have gotten much heavier.

He could still remember what Cobra had looked like, kneeling between his legs with his tongue lapping at the quivering flesh just above Bickslow's jeans. He'd been fully clothed, and before Bickslow could even suggest they make it even, Cobra had said that it was all about him. His pleasure. Cobra had been the one to suggest taking it slow in the first place, and after six months Bickslow was actually pretty fucking curious about how different a blowjob would be coming from a guy.

And when he thought about seeing Cobra so ready to please him, so eager for his zipper to slide down, to reach beneath his boxers and start treating him like a Bickslow lollipop, he found that he really fucking wanted that. Much more than he'd wanted it the day before.

Bickslow had been a little unsure of what they were doing the night before, and Cobra had been reassuring and tender and - fuck, he'd been treating him like a virgin. He couldn't even be upset about it because, when it came to being with a guy, this was all new fucking territory. Cobra was experienced and Bickslow was floundering, aside from understanding the logistics of how gay couples got down and dirty. But being comfortable with it was something completely different, and he was so fucking thankful that Cobra was so damn patient with him about the physical side of their relationship.

Kisses here and there, hugging and cuddling in a coffee shop. That was all fine with him. It was when the clothes started flying that he maybe, kind of, locked up a bit.

But now, thinking back on the night before, Bickslow really  _really_  wished that Laxus hadn't come in and killed the mood. Now he wished that Cobra had been able to keep going, had gotten his pants and boxers off and blown his damn mind.

He wasn't sure how he knew it, but Bickslow was positive that Cobra would have had him screaming in ecstasy. Fuck, he really wanted that. Cobra's lips wrapped around him, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucked, the way he'd-

"Do me a favor and don't fucking crash!"

Bickslow blinked and quickly corrected his steering before he veered onto the shoulder. He ignored the shrieking honks from cars around them while evening out in the lane, then sent Cobra a shaky grin. "Sorry about that."

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

"I really want you to blow me."

Cobra's mouth opened, ready to continue ripping into him, and then he stopped. "Well…" That was a first. Bickslow sounded so breathless. When he looked over, he could see a light flush drifting across his cheeks. "Alright then."

"Like, a lot."

Cobra smirked. "You were thinking about last night." Bickslow nodded, and he chuckled while grabbing his boyfriend's hand, linking their fingers. He didn't pull Bickslow's hand closer to his lap, and instead left them hovering over the center console. "Fucking pervert."

"That's my best quality," Bickslow grinned.

"Mm, debatable." Cobra really thought Bickslow had a lot of wonderful qualities. Being a pervert didn't even make his top five.

* * *

"You're fucking kidding me," Cobra said, his eyes widening in shock as Bickslow turned right off the two-lane road onto a wide gravel path. He'd never really had the chance to leave Magnolia, and now that they were a couple hours south, down in the countryside, Cobra was left wishing he'd seen it before.

Bickslow grinned at the entrance to his grandmother's property, the two thick wooden poles rising from either side of the gravel drive with a large wooden banner arching over it that read  _Tamashi Ranch_. "Home sweet home," he said.

Cobra didn't care what he looked like while he gaped like a fucking moron at the wide expanse of lush grass stretching on for miles. Woods dotted the land far off on the right, set a fair ways behind a three-story colonial house. To the left were several huge buildings, a barn, and what looked like a grain silo. Horses roamed in a large wooden pen with several men guiding them. He was tempted to roll down the window just to see how different it smelled. That would have been a step too far though. Probably.

"What do you think?" Bickslow asked softly.

"Fucking wow." They turned right when the gravel forked, obviously heading toward the house. The house where Bickslow grew up. Where his grandmother was waiting. Cobra found that he was equal parts terrified of meeting her, and enthralled by the lush green grass they drove past. Why he'd chosen to go to college in the city, Cobra couldn't understand. This was a fucking eden. A goddamn paradise.

Bickslow held back a chuckle when the passenger window rolled down and he heard Cobra take a deep breath. In that moment, he wished he wasn't driving, just so he could watch his boyfriend's first experience of the country air in its entirety, instead of sideways glances here and there. Sooner than he would have liked, he parked the truck in his old space in front of the garage. Cobra rolled up the window before he shut off the engine, and they stepped out together.

God, how he wished he could wrap his arm around those slender shoulders, pull Cobra close and kiss him. He was, however, very thankful that he'd told Cobra not to worry about what he was wearing - Bickslow, himself, had opted for a pair of weathered jeans, a newer pair of work boots, and a t-shirt, and Cobra was much the same. Those familiar combat boots were partially covered by a pair of black jeans, and he'd decided on a plain white tee that hugged him so fucking perfectly. It meant his boyfriend was just a little more comfortable, and that he (hopefully) wasn't worried about sticking out by being overdressed. Or underdressed.

"You seriously lived here," Cobra said, still looking around in amazement. "This isn't you pranking the shit out of me?"

Bickslow didn't have a chance to answer as the front door opened and his grandmother stepped out onto the covered porch in her familiar knee-length blue dress with little pink flowers printed on the seams. He gave Cobra a small, reassuring smile, then jogged across the lawn and up the steps to greet her with a tender hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Cobra's steps were decidedly slower. Up close, the house was even bigger than he'd thought. He knew Bickslow's family wasn't rich, not like Lucy's had been - and how she technically still was, now that she'd come of age and her father's fortune was released from her trust fund - but this was a whole other level of something he just couldn't imagine. The house was solid brick with elegant white pillars surrounding the bright red front door. The shutters on all the windows were covered in a fresh coat of forest green paint. There were two chimneys, one on each side of the house. Who the fuck needed two goddamn chimneys?

Still, he knew it would be rude to stand there, staring at his boyfriend's childhood home. He was a chemist, not a fucking architect or history buff. So Cobra forced his feet to move, not across the grass like Bickslow had done, but along the cobbled path leading to the porch.

"- sure you ain't eatin' fertilizer? You are  _growin'_  like a  _weed_!" Cobra really should have expected Bickslow's grandmother to have that thick twang in her voice, considering they were on a goddamn horse ranch. Out in the country. He wasn't sure why Bickslow didn't sound anything like her though. Maybe he'd never had it at all, or maybe he made sure no one thought he was some country bumpkin just by hearing him talk.

"I'm the same as the last time you saw me," Bickslow chuckled. He turned when Cobra's quiet steps sounded on the stairs. "Memaw, this is C-"

"Erik," he said quickly, stepping forward and keeping what he hoped was a normal amount of distance between himself and his boyfriend. Good fucking lord was she tiny. Once he was directly in front of her, he realized that she couldn't have been more than five feet tall, even shorter than Lucy. She was thin from old age, but it seemed time had been pretty kind to her and gave her only the faintest of wrinkles around her bright green eyes and thin, plum lips. Her hair was pitch white and tied in a low braid. "It's nice to meet you."

Bickslow, thankfully, jumped right back in with a confused smile directed at him and his arm winding around her. "And this is my Memaw."

"Pleasure's all mine, Erik," she said, smiling wide and showing off what Cobra was sure were slightly yellowed dentures. Either that or she had the most insane dental hygiene to be able to have all of her teeth. "Now y'all come on in. Ain't no sense in standin' out here, roastin' like pigs on a spit."

"Yes, ma'am," Bickslow said, grinning. That was weird for Cobra to hear though, since he couldn't recall a single time he'd heard his boyfriend say  _ma'am_. Maybe it was just the southern manners that had, apparently, been drilled into him over the years.

She turned and walked inside, her small shoes shuffling over the polished wood floor of the entryway. "Lunch is ready, so y'all wash up."

"Yes, ma'am." Bickslow took a step forward and glanced at Cobra while they made their way inside. "Erik, huh?"

And that was when he realized that he'd never actually told Bickslow his real name. Six months together, and he'd never done something so fucking basic. He removed his boots, following Bickslow's lead as he kicked off his own and set them on a low shelf just inside. "Yeah," he shrugged. It wasn't like he'd meant to keep it from him. It had actually just slipped his mind. He was so used to being around Gajeel, Macbeth, and Lucy, and they already knew his birth name. No one called him Erik except for them, but that was mostly because he was always introduced as Cobra.

"I like it."

And, oddly enough, hearing that made Cobra feel just a little better about deciding to spend Bickslow's birthday out in the middle of nowhere with his grandmother, who hadn't a clue what they really were to one another.

* * *

A short while later, the three of them were seated at the dining table, recovering from an enormous lunch. It was barely after one in the afternoon, but the old woman had made a full-on dinner. Steak and heavy gravy, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, and cornbread. And the sweetest, most sugary tea he'd ever had. Cobra hadn't known what to think of the meal choice - maybe she was going a little batty in the head and didn't realize that it was only lunchtime? - but by the look on Bickslow's face, he wasn't going to question it.

Bickslow let out a heavy sigh and patted his stomach for effect. "Memaw, your cookin's good as all get out," he said. Cobra paused when he heard a very distinct accent leaking through his voice. "I'm full as a tick."

Cobra really had to agree with him though. He'd never had so much lard in food before - or any, for that matter - but fuck was it good. And filling. He'd only eaten a single helping, but that was more than enough.

"That's because you ain't eatin' enough in school," she said while standing and getting ready to take the plates from the table.

"Uh-uh," Bickslow said, quickly standing from his seat. He walked around the table, and placed a gentle hand on her thin wrist, smiling all the while. "You cooked. I'll wash 'em."

She smiled back and gave him a small nod, taking her seat again. Once the dishes were off in the kitchen, Cobra suddenly realized that he had no fucking clue how to talk to her. Or what to talk about. Did he bring up what he was studying in school? Did he wait for her to decide on a topic? Luckily, being a good hostess, she saved him from sweating and fidgeting in his chair.

"So, Bickslow tells me you're a scientist?"

"Yes, ma'am." It was easier than he'd imagined to emulate the manners he'd seen and heard Bickslow using during lunch. "I'm majoring in Chemistry. I really prefer focusing on toxicology though. Learning about poisons, the effects of acids on things."

She clasped her hands together on the table, her elbows never touching the surface, and smiled at him. Bickslow must have gotten his incessant smiling from her. "Now that's a fine thing to learn," she said. "Bickslow was never very good in his science classes. He had to take Biology two years in a row."

Cobra chuckled, glancing toward the kitchen and listening to the quiet clinking of dishes in the sink. "Trust me, I know," he said, looking back at her. "He has me tutor him at least once a week." He wasn't going to mention that those study sessions had, more often than not, ended up with them lying across the books and papers, kissing and groaning and more than distracted.

"Well, I'm glad he's got a friend willin' to help." Cobra shrugged and looked down at his own hands resting on the table. "So how did you and Bickslow meet?"

He wasn't sure if she knew that Bickslow smoked - he was already in the process of quitting, after all - but he figured it was alright to tell her some of the truth. "We met through a mutual friend, Gajeel. Then we ended up studying together in the library, comparing his easy reading materials to mine."

"Easy?"

"He gets pictures in his textbooks," Cobra deadpanned. "I'm lucky to get a diagram once every hundred fu-" He quickly cleared his throat, muttering a soft apology and hoping she wouldn't realize he was about to let a curse slip out.  _'Keep the cursing out, motherfucker!'_  "Every hundred pages or so."

"Well, you are goin' for different things."

Cobra still couldn't get over the fact that Bickslow was a Theology major. He just didn't understand it, but damn it all was the blue-haired bastard sexy when he started talking about it. That spark in his eyes, how his hands would start moving to help make his point. It was one of the few things Bickslow was truly serious about. "Yeah," he said. There was a pregnant silence that had his skin crawling. Maybe she was expecting him to bring something up? Regardless of whether or not she knew they were dating, an astoundingly large part of him ached for her approval. He really did want her to like him. "You know, he never told me he used to live on a ranch."

There was a twinkle in her eye that he didn't understand, but he stayed relaxed.

"Bickslow was born and raised here," she said. "His Mama had him up in her bedroom with a midwife and the town doctor here. She was young and his father wasn't around. Bless his heart, that man was so broke he couldn't afford to pay attention, and he decided that a baby wasn't for him."

"That sucks," he said, wincing slightly. Was that too rude? Damnit.

She let out a small, quiet laugh. "Well, he grew up here, workin' with the horses, ridin' and wranglin'. That boy learned this ranch inside an' out before he was tall enough to reach the stove."

"I just can't picture it," he said, looking back toward the kitchen. That definitely explained the delicious muscles his tongue had been dragging over the night before. Those tight abs, strong arms, the callouses on his hands and knuckles. After a moment, Cobra realized he needed to change his train of thought before he popped a fucking boner at the table with his boyfriend's grandmother sitting right there. Then again, just the realization that she was there was enough to kill that fucking mood real fast.

* * *

 

Cobra wasn't entirely sure where Bickslow put all the fucking food he ate. Like the two whole slices of pecan pie that had replaced the traditional birthday cake - complete with a candle in it that had Bickslow cracking up. Because Cobra was struggling to get through his own piece. He could eat like a boss when he was so inclined, but never in his life had he eaten such  _filling_  food.

"I'm gonna be sendin' both of y'all home with leftovers," Memaw said. "I'm sure y'all don't get enough home-cooked meals livin' in the dorms."

"Not really," Bickslow chuckled. "Fast food is easy, and ramen is cheap. You know I'll take leftovers, Memaw."

Cobra gulped down the partially chewed bite of pie when her attention turned toward him. "I, uh… I've never really had anything like this, so…" He could only assume that the cafeteria style food in the orphanage could be considered a home-cooked meal, considering that was the closest he'd ever had to a home. Fast food was pretty much all he ate. Like Taco Bell. Constantly. And the only time he'd really gone to a regular restaurant was with Lucy and Macbeth when they graduated from high school, and again when they were all accepted to the same university.

But something like this? Sitting around a table in an actual dining room, smelling the food cooking and the work that went into the meal? That was something he'd never had. And it was something that he hadn't realized he was missing out on until he'd taken a seat and saw the meal set out on matching white vintage plates with blue flowers on the trim and gold edges.

"Well, anytime you come on down, you'll be takin' leftovers," she said.

"Thank you," Cobra said just before taking another bite. He was nearly done with his slice. He could finish this. Wasn't it rude to leave food on the plate? Bickslow had cleared his own during lunch, and then dessert. His grandmother had done the same, but her own portions had been visibly smaller.

"Think nothin' of it." She took a sip of her tea while setting her attention on Bickslow again. "Bickslow, I know you told me not to bother gettin' you anything, but it's too late."

"I saw this morning," he chuckled. "Thanks for the gift cards."

"Gift cards?" Cobra asked, brow raised and smirking. "Very modern."

"I don't know what to get my grandson anymore," she laughed. "I figured somethin' for the bookstore out there to get the books he wants. Lord knows I haven't the foggiest what he does and doesn't have now."

"Memaw likes spoiling my inner nerd," Bickslow said while putting a third slice of pie on his plate.

"What  _inner_  nerd?" Cobra chuckled. "You're all nerd."

"Gradually, step by step, one should become situated in trance by means of intelligence sustained by full conviction, and thus the mind should be fixed on the Self alone," Bickslow said, waving his fork around. "Bhagavad Gita."

"Honey, I think you just proved Erik's point," Memaw said gently. "I hope you had a good birthday though. I'm sure you had better things to do than come home and see me."

"No way," Bickslow said, more focused on food than what he was saying. "Cobra's gonna give me my birthday present when we get back later. And it's not like I wanna go out partying when I could spend the day with you and then have a nice night in with my boyfr-" The sharp kick to his shin under the table and the wide-eyed stare from Cobra sitting next to him, had Bickslow ready to swallow his tongue. "I mean, uh… studying… A night in studying… with my books!"

"You got somethin' you wanna tell me?"

Cobra was hoping with everything he was worth that he could just melt into the goddamn chair right then. He definitely was  _not_  going to look at the older woman just to find out if she was glaring at him like he thought. He was just going to stare at Bickslow, who was suddenly more interested in the fucking tablecloth than making a peep.

"Bickslow?"

"Y-Yes, Memaw?"

"I'm gonna ask you one time, and you best not lie to me," she said slowly.

"Yes, ma'am…"

"Do you have somethin' to tell me about Erik?"

Finally, Bickslow looked up from the table, right into her bright green eyes. "He's my boyfriend," he said, watching her slowly take a sip of her tea, still staring right at him. "For about six months now."

"Uh-huh."

Bickslow cringed slightly, but refused to look toward Cobra. Especially since he suddenly felt an apology sitting on the tip of his tongue, and the last thing he wanted to do was apologize for dating the guy who was sitting right there. He knew there wasn't anything to apologize for. He wasn't ashamed of his relationship with Cobra. Far from it. But he knew that his grandmother was religious, a devout Christian, and this was probably the last thing she wanted to find out about. That her only grandson was gay was probably the biggest kick in the teeth he could have given her.

"Is there a reason you didn't tell me sooner?" she asked.

A small part of Bickslow wanted to cling to the hope that she wouldn't disown him right then and there. He just couldn't picture her doing it. Except, he'd also never really thought about how she felt about gay people in general. But she was waiting for an answer, and he'd learned a long time ago that she didn't ask questions that she didn't expect answered.

"I… Well, I thought… I don't know."

"You'll have to do better than that, Bickslow."

"I was worried about how you'd react," he whispered, finally breaking eye contact with her to look at his half-eaten slice of pie. "I wasn't gonna tell you on the phone, and it seemed like something I should say in person."

"Well, I appreciate the thought," she said.

"Are you… mad at me?" Both Bickslow and Cobra found themselves jumping when she laughed. It wasn't just a quiet little laugh, but filled the air around them.

"Honey, gettin' all worked up over somethin' like who's lovin' who makes about as much sense as a screen door on a submarine!"

Cobra chuckled at her quick turn of phrase. He really couldn't help it at that point. All day, Bickslow's grandmother had been throwing out weird little sayings that he'd never heard before, and he'd been trying to hold back his laughter. The last thing he'd wanted to do was offend her. But at that point, he couldn't fucking stop himself. And thankfully, when she reached across the table and placed her cold, wrinkled fingers on the back of his hand, drawing his gaze to her face, she was smiling back at him.

"My opinion on who makes my grandson happy don't amount to a hill o' beans," she said, lightly squeezing Cobra's hand. "Long as he's happy, I'm happy."

Cobra's smile grew just a little wider. "I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I'll take it as a good thing," he said, pulling another laugh from the older woman.

"But…" Bickslow's brows drew together. "You're a super Christian, Memaw. The Bible says that what we're doing is a sin."

Her eyes narrowed only slightly while she looked back at him. "You should know better'n anyone that I think that King James version is a load of garbage," she said. "The Bible's all well and good - and I prefer my Geneva version - but I raised you to remember the most important thing is love. You live your life as a good person, and God will make sure good things happen to you in return, Bickslow. I might believe in God, and I might be a Christian, but I'm of the firm belief that we should  _love_  each other, and stop focusin' so much on our differences."

"But I… I thought…"

"I can only assume that you ain't ashamed of Erik, else you wouldn't have brought him over."

"I'm not!"

"Then what's the problem?" she laughed, turning to look at Cobra again. "He's cute as a button. If you don't want him, I think I might just snatch him up myself."

Cobra huffed out a laugh at her exaggerated wink toward him, then turned to find Bickslow's jaw hanging open. And that only made him laugh even harder. One of his favorite things to do was trying to catch Bickslow off-guard. The look on his face was absolutely adorable when he was surprised. His eyes would get so wide, and those sexy, plump lips of his would part just a little. Cobra could nearly hear the cogs in his head grinding to a halt.

Fucking precious.

"M-Memaw?" Bickslow blanched at the sudden mental image of Cobra and his grandmother doing anything together that didn't involve a table between the two of them.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Bix," Cobra snickered. "Or I might just let her sweep me off my feet."

"Oh my god… Shut up…"

"But we could be in love," Memaw said. "Bickslow, you wouldn't want to deny an old woman the chance at love, would ya?"

"I quit," he muttered, stabbing at his pie and shoveling a large bite in his mouth. He was never going to get those images out of his head. Never.

"Now, how'd you get the name Cobra?"

"When I was five, I stopped a boy from beating up my friend, Lucy," Cobra said. He wasn't going to mention that it was Laxus, Bickslow's damn roommate. Mainly because he really wasn't planning on going down that road and bringing up all the bullshit between them over the years, if he could help it. "She'd just lost her parents a few months back, and she really wasn't in a good place at the time. And he was eleven, so it was already just a hot mess. Anyway, I helped her out and when we were talking afterwards, she said I reminded her of a cobra. The name stuck."

"Well, I'd like to call you Erik, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," he said, smiling while taking another bite of pie.

Cobra's foot slid across the small space between their feet and lightly caressed his calf, and Bickslow found that he couldn't stop himself from smiling. The cat was out of the bag. His Memaw knew that he was in a relationship with a guy, and she hadn't blown a head gasket. She was treating him just like she did everyone else.

"You should feel lucky, Memaw. I didn't know his name was Erik until today."

Cobra shrugged at the playful glare from his boyfriend. "You never asked," he said. "Happy birthday, Bix."


	3. Marks/Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this early because of the wonderful reviews I've already received over on my FFnet account.

_Erik is 20. Bickslow is 22._

* * *

Cobra woke slowly and blinked away the fuzziness that had swarmed over him. The bed he was on felt soft, softer than the twin in his dorm room but not nearly as comfortable as Bickslow's bed. His hand brushed through his hair and rubbed down his face, and he frowned when he felt his right eye. Or the lack of one, to be more specific. And a scar running from his forehead down onto his cheek.

He remembered being in the lab and mixing the wrong chemicals, realizing his mistake moments before the beaker shattered and shards of glass went sailing right toward his face. He remembered being on the ground and cradling his head, his hand slick with blood and everything throbbing. He remembered the fucking  _pain_. And then Midnight was there with him, calling an ambulance, holding his hand the whole time. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd been crying.

Cobra vaguely remembered asking Midnight to get pictures of what the fuck had happened to him. He wanted to see it later on.

Things went a little fuzzy when the paramedics showed up though. He must have still been in the hospital then, but that didn't explain why he already had a fucking scar on his face.

When he looked around, he realized something was seriously fucking wrong. He wasn't in a hospital at all. The room was large with hewn stone making up the walls and floor. Several large windows lined the room to let in all the sunlight the world had to offer. That was fucking annoying. Several other beds surrounded him, all empty and looking sterile.

Maybe he was in some sort of infirmary, somewhere, but just where the fuck he could have been, he hadn't a clue. And then he started smelling things. More like everything. He smelled alcohol and dried blood, bandages, some sort of sugary scent in the air. Cooking chicken and vegetables with garlic. And beer. So much fucking beer. And cologne. Too many different types of cologne.

Cobra inhaled more deeply. Three different types of cologne. And sweat from way too many different people. Except he was alone in the room, and it smelled like he'd buried his face in an Abercrombie model's jockstrap.

Sound was the next thing to come back to him. Sure, he'd been able to hear the shuffle of fabric over itself when he'd moved and his own breathing, but then he heard voices. Shouting and laughing, glass breaking on tables. People ordering beer and some guy's voice shouting,  _"Mira, more fire chicken!"_ and another yelling,  _"So manly!"_  Birds chirping and children laughing while kicking a ball over a grassy field.

But he was inside, so he shouldn't have been able to hear that.

When he heard other voices though, Cobra started to worry. It wasn't like listening to a conversation through a door - like the shouting was - but drifting between his ears. Hundreds of voices. Maybe thousands. Way too fucking many of them, that was for sure. None of what they said made sense as they swelled in volume. Harsh whispers and wistful breaths of information, yelling and shrieking and  _emotions_. He could nearly taste the fear and anger that wasn't his own pummeling his brain.

It forced him to sit up quickly - a little too quickly, he realized, when he swayed and nearly toppled back onto the bed. A nearby door slammed shut and feet came rushing toward him.

"Whoa! Careful there." Then familiar hands, so large and warm and comforting, were touching Cobra's shoulders. The cologne and aftershave was missing, but the scent clinging to those hands was still familiar. His eye opened, fully expecting for his vision to be filled with red and green eyes and his wide, infectious smile.

The smile was still there, and his tongue lolled from his mouth just like it always did. But there was some weird metal grate-looking monstrosity over Bickslow's eyes, and there was a tattoo on his tongue that looked like some sort of tribal chocobo. "What the fuck?" he muttered to himself.

Bickslow laughed and let him go.  _'Never knew his arms felt like that… Damn…'_  He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest, letting Cobra see the strange pinstriped top and blue pants, epaulets, and three-sectioned skirt fastened with a belt. "You sure scared the shit out of everyone, passing out like that."

He stared. Cobra really couldn't help it. He sounded like Bickslow, had the same muscular frame - that was hidden by weird fucking clothing - and he smelled just like he did after a shower. This had to be his boyfriend. "Huh?"

Bickslow chuckled then. "Man, you must be out of it. I told Mira I'd hang out up here and let her know when you woke up though. Jellal whisked Erza away, but Angel and the others are still hanging around."

"What?"

"I'm rambling," he said, shaking his head. "I'll get outta your hair."

"Outta your hair! Outta your hair!" five totems laughed, whirling around in the air behind Bickslow's head.

Cobra's eye went wide as his attention was drawn to the little tiki-faced bits of wood. "What the fuck are those?!"

"... My babies," Bickslow answered. His smile faded as he watched Cobra.  _'He must've hit his head harder than they thought…'_

Cobra paused, turned back to Bickslow. His lips weren't moving, but he could hear his voice. It wasn't in the air around him, but in his head. That wasn't good. Maybe he needed to have the dosage on his medication checked. He shouldn't be hearing voices anymore. His schizophrenia was solidly in check, last he knew, and he'd been on top of taking all of his prescriptions. Maybe it was some weird reaction with the chemicals that might have entered his bloodstream from that beaker though. Or maybe he'd been unconscious so long - long enough to have this scar on his face, at least - that he needed to get put back on his medication. That had to be it.

So, instead of saying anything about what he was hearing in Bickslow's voice in his head, he ignored it. Just like he'd taught himself to do over the years. He didn't answer the questions that voice asked him. He just pretended it wasn't there.

Still, his eye narrowed at the man standing before him. He really wanted to be able to see his eyes. He loved Bickslow's eyes. The coloration, how expressive they were. Everything about them made his soul shiver in the best ways possible. "Take that fucking thing off, Bix," he said. "You look weird as hell in it."

"Look weird in what?" Bickslow asked, looking down at himself.

"That helmet thing. What, was I in a fucking coma for months, and now it's Halloween?"

Bickslow froze, slowly lifting his head to look at Cobra again. "Take it off?" he asked, his eyes widening behind his visor when Cobra nodded.

"Yeah, lemme see your eyes."

Bickslow's head tilted to the side. "Are you sure you're alright?"

' _Why would he want to see my eyes? Why did he call me Bix? Cobra doesn't call me that. Hell, he doesn't even talk to me.'_

A low growl that was more animalistic than the aggravated groan he meant to let out ripped itself past his lips while he leaned closer to Bickslow and ripped the stupid piece of metal off of his face. He looked into those same red and green eyes that he'd memorized months ago to find them widened in surprise. And then he frowned.

Bickslow wasn't supposed to have a weird person-shaped tattoo on his face. His hair was all wrong. His boyfriend wasn't supposed to have a three-part mohawk. Bickslow had a mohawk, plain and simple, and it was fucking sexy. Now he looked ridiculous, like he'd gotten into a fight with a pair of clippers and had barely made it out with his fucking life.

He was more than surprised to find the green in his boyfriend's eyes slowly overtaking the red until they were glowing.

Bickslow gasped when Cobra's face was bathed in green light, and quickly looked away. "Sorry! Shit… Sorry, Cobra. I wasn't trying anything."

"... Trying anything?" Cobra asked.

' _God, way to go, ass. Why'd he have to take my visor off? Now I can't even look at him. God, he's sexy. Grumpy as hell all the time, but that little laugh he does… and then his lips lift just a little… fuck, his lips! What I wouldn't give to just kiss him one time. He could poison the hell out of me after the fact. Best way to die ever. Hands down.'_

A new scent curled its way up into Cobra's sinuses, and he pulled in a long, deep breath. It was spicy and masculine, and part of him just  _knew_  it was coming from Bickslow. Was it something he hadn't smelled before because that visor had been on? He leaned closer, his eye closing as he breathed in again. "Did you change your soap or something?"

Bickslow jolted and turned back toward Cobra when he came closer. His jaw dropped when Cobra's nose met with his chest. "Uh… no? I-I mean, I don't, um… I don't think I did."

"Cologne then?" He breathed in again, shifting to kneel on the edge of the bed, and slowly worked his way up to the slip of skin at Bickslow's throat that was exposed. The scent grew stronger still as he moved, so he was sure he was getting closer to where it was coming from.

Bickslow gulped. "No. I-I don't wear cologne."

' _God that feels good. Cobra smells good. He probably doesn't wear cologne either, since his guild's always on the road and it would mess with his nose. This is just what he smells like… Oh my god his hair's soft.'_

"Y'know how Laxus is about his sensitive nose," Bickslow continued. He took a shaky breath when Cobra's nose trailed along his jaw toward his ear. "L-Last thing I want is Freed locking me up in some runes for getting on Laxus' nerves."

Cobra rolled his eye at that. "Laxus is a dick," he huffed. "Freed's not so bad, but I still have no idea why you bother associating with that prick." He stopped at Bickslow's ear, grinning when his boyfriend shivered as his nose trailed over the shell. "It's not shampoo… What the hell is that smell?"

Bickslow gasped sharply at the feeling of Cobra's hot breath on his flesh. "Uh, C-Cobra…"

' _Fuck, that feels good. Don't stop… He should stop. He should definitely stop, because the last thing I want is for anyone to find out I like him. Especially not him. He'd kill me in a heartbeat, I bet, and… Sweet mother of Fuck! Did he just lick me?! Oh… He did… He… God, yes!'_

Cobra chuckled, nipping lightly at Bickslow's earlobe. The scent was nearly overwhelming, whatever it was. "You'll never believe the things I'm hearing right now," he rasped. Shit, that probably wasn't a good idea to mention. Bickslow didn't know about any of that yet. They'd been together for a year, and it was probably well past the time he should have mentioned that he had some mental issues. Schizophrenia and Post-Traumatic Stress, mostly. Bickslow already knew he had nightmares, but that was different. They didn't happen  _too_  often, so he could just brush them off.

' _Fuck, I forgot he could hear me!'_  Bickslow blushed and set his hands on Cobra's thin hips, ready to push him back. "I should, uh… Tell M-Mira you're…" His eyes fluttered closed when Cobra's fingers met with his stomach and lightly trailed higher toward his chest. "You're, um…" Cobra's lips pressed small, wanting kisses down his throat, pulling a soft groan from him.

"Y'know, Bix," Cobra rasped, "I think my favorite sound you make is the one when I do this..." He looked into Bickslow's half-lidded eyes and smirked, then gently bit his lower lip. The same spicy scent that had been overpowering his nose came back tenfold as Bickslow held back a moan. "Don't hide it. You know how much I like hearing you."

Bickslow couldn't stop himself from moaning when Cobra bit down harder on his lower lip. Tanned hands sifted through his hair and pulled just enough for him to wince, but not so much that he didn't enjoy it. He  _really_  liked how that felt. He still pulled back though, pulling his lip between his teeth. "Fuck, Cobra, y-you've gotta stop this."

Cobra growled and forced Bickslow's head back down until their noses were brushing. Strong hands tightened on his hips, fingers twitching with the desire to move over him. He looked into the neon glowing eyes before him and nipped at his lips again. "I don't know what kind of contacts you're wearing to do that with your eyes, but it's really turning me on right now."

' _He… what?!'_

"Kiss me, Bix," Cobra hissed. His tongue darted out to taste Bickslow's lips, and he grinned when those hands finally slid around his waist. Their lips met slowly, almost as though his boyfriend was savoring every single second, every taste and sensation. The kiss was different though. He tasted a little differently than normal, like some strange beer and mint and… licorice, maybe.

' _Man, can Cobra kiss… I never thought he'd be so… passionate. Is that the right word? He sure growls a lot while we're kissing. Maybe that means he likes it. Well, I guess I can blow his mind like he's doing to mine… Just move my tongue like this, and… Oh, shit! Well, alright. I guess we're laying on the bed now… With me between his legs… He sure likes touching me… Not complaining about that though… God, why does he know how to touch me? Must be his magic. Cheater. Mmm, but he won't stop kissing me. Or maybe I won't stop kissing him. Doesn't matter. He'll probably come to his senses soon…'_

Cobra finally drew back for air, smirking up at his boyfriend's dazed expression. He loved seeing Bickslow look like that when they'd been kissing. Except it wasn't usually Cobra pulling him down onto a bed. More often than not, Bickslow gently guided him where he wanted him, just hinting at what he wanted to do. It was mutual, not Cobra dragging his boyfriend around and manhandling him.

Then again, he kind of liked how pliant Bickslow was about them kissing like this. And he definitely liked how it felt having his boyfriend on top of him, pinning him to the bed, with one arm bracing the bulk of his weight and the other grabbing his ass.

Their next kiss, Bickslow initiated, but it was simple. Just a chaste little peck on Cobra's swollen lips.

"Last thing I remember was Midnight getting me to a hospital," Cobra said. He lightly toyed with a tuft of blue hair over Bickslow's ear. "That beaker blew up in the lab. I guess he called you, though?"

Bickslow frowned and drew back to look into his single indigo eye. "Cobra, what are you talking about? You were down at the bar with Laxus and Gajeel, then you just passed out."

"Fuck, I didn't miss Lucy's birthday, did I?" Cobra's own frown deepened as he focused on Bickslow's face. "Wait, what did you say?"

Bickslow shook his head, clearly confused. "You were with Gajeel and Laxus at the bar…"

Cobra blinked slowly as the corners of his vision darkened with wisps of grey. "I wasn't," he said softly. The image of Bickslow hovering over him faded into terrifying swathes of grey and silver, and the last thing he saw was those glowing green eyes.

* * *

He woke up in the same infirmary, alone once again. Based on the sounds around him, it wasn't going to be that way for long. The door opened just as he sat up, slower this time than the last time he'd woken up, and he looked over to see Lucy walking across the room with Bickslow just behind her.

"Cobra," she said slowly, standing on one side of the bed just out of arm's reach. That was weird though, since she would have been in his fucking bubble as soon as she saw him. "Bickslow came to get me. He said you were acting weird and passed out again after saying something about me?"

' _Why would Cobra be talking about me though? And why was Bickslow so freaked out when he'd come to talk to me? Sure, Bickslow and I don't talk all that often, but… Well, maybe it was because he knows I'm still not all that comfortable around Cobra.'_

And then he smiled. The voices in his head were still there - and sure, it was weird that he was hearing  _her_  voice in his head when he'd been hearing Bickslow's earlier - but Lucy was there. And she looked normal. "Bright Eyes," he sighed, "I didn't miss your birthday, did I?"

"Um… No, you - Wait, you know when my birthday is?"

"Of course I do, dumbass," he chuckled. "July first. Exactly a week after mine."

"Your birthday's June twenty-fourth?" Lucy blinked and stared off into space for a moment. "Huh… Learn something new every day."

His smile faltered slightly. "What the hell are you talking about?" he whispered. "You know when my birthday is." She shook her head and turned her confused gaze back toward him. "You were the one to tell Kyouka when it was so I could have a birthday cake."

"Kyouka?" she asked, her eyes widening in horror. "As in, the demon Kyouka?"

' _What the hell is going on with him? Maybe we should get Midnight up here. He knows Cobra better than anyone, I'd think, so maybe he'll have an idea of what's going on.'_

Cobra slowly shifted over to the edge of the bed and set his feet on the floor, then carefully grabbed her hand. She jumped in surprise, but didn't try to pull away from him. She didn't smell like Lucy though. She smelled like fresh roses and a campfire - why the hell could he smell something like that on her in the first place? - but not like her favorite almond and honey body wash. When he looked at her from head to toe, she seemed like the same Lucy he knew. Her hair was a little shorter though, and she hadn't worn it in pigtails like this in a long time. He'd never seen the tube top she had on before, and her skirt was several inches shorter than what she normally wore those days.

Those little differences weren't that disconcerting though. What was unnerving about her appearance was the brown leather belt with a pouch on one side and a whip on the other. "Okay, it's Halloween, right?" he said, frowning down at the bright pink chocobo tattoo on her hand. "You're both in costumes."

"What the hell is Halloween?" Lucy hissed, glancing at Bickslow who only shrugged.

"Did you finally let Gajeel give you a tattoo, Bright Eyes? You too, Bix…"

"That's my guild mark," she said, slowly pulling her hand from his grip. When he looked up at her, she could see the confusion knitting his brow. And that was just weird, because Cobra never looked like this to anyone. "I'm gonna go and get Midnight, okay? We're gonna figure this out."

He stared after her as she turned and darted out of the room, leaving him and Bickslow alone together. That was weird. She looked so worried. But there wasn't anything wrong with him. Everyone else was being fucking strange. Acting like they weren't friends, that he wasn't the closest thing she had to a brother.

Bickslow took a seat beside him, keeping a small bit of space between them. "Cobra, are you sure you're alright?"

' _There's gotta be something wrong with him. He kissed me earlier. Cobra wouldn't do that. And now he looks so sad. Cobra never looks sad. He always just looks pissed.'_

Cobra closed his eye and ran a hand through his hair. When he looked back to Bickslow, he found that godforsaken visor covering his eyes again. "Please take that stupid thing off," he said. Bickslow did, but he was hesitant to do so. "I'm so fucking confused right now…"

He shifted just enough to curl himself against Bickslow's side and ignored how he went rigid for a moment before relaxing. Once he felt an arm around his shoulders, drawing him closer, the hand lightly rubbing over his arm, Cobra relaxed.

"We'll figure it out, man," Bickslow said.

"Don't call me that…" His head tilted back to look into Bickslow's eyes. They weren't glowing right then. "You know you can call me Erik."

"Why would I call you Erik?"

Cobra shook his head again and buried his face in Bickslow's shoulder. "Just forget about it." He could hear a different set of footsteps drawing closer to the room. But he didn't want to see anyone else. He didn't want another person to tell him that he wasn't acting like himself. Because he was. This was who he'd always been. Lucy and Midnight knew that. Bickslow knew that too. Okay, so maybe he was more social than he'd been when he first went to the orphanage, but that was because of Lucy and Midnight. They'd pulled him out of his shell, gave him people he could trust.

But she acted like she didn't even know who he was past his name.

' _Don't know why she woke me up for this. So he passed out. I'm not his keeper.'_

Cobra looked at the door moments before it opened to reveal Midnight walking in. Lucy wasn't with him. She should have been with him. But he looked exactly the same. He was the only person who looked the way he should have. With the exception of a jacket with long white fur lining the edges, but Midnight had always been weird about his fashion choices, so this really wasn't too much of a stretch. His makeup was the same as always. He looked just as pale and tired as he always did. He was the same. Thank fucking god for small favors.

"Midnight, what the hell's going on?" Cobra asked.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Cobra curled up in Bickslow's arms. Slowly, Midnight made his way over to the bed. He looked right into Cobra's eye, and his head tilted slightly.

' _Well, now that's very interesting. I'm awake now.'_

And then Midnight smiled with a slow, devious turn of his lips. "You're not Cobra."

"Fuck you, you goddamn narcoleptic diva," Cobra snarled. "I-"

Midnight looked from Bickslow back to Cobra, then bent down so they were eye to eye. "Cobra doesn't let people touch him."

' _He looks like him though. Curses like him too. Even the insults are just like Cobra. But I can tell. That look in his eye. That's not Dokuryuu no Cobra.'_

"Well, he's a different story, and you know that."

"I know you must think so," Midnight chuckled. "Humor me for a minute?"

Cobra's eye narrowed, but he nodded all the same.

"Tell me how we met."

"At the orphanage," Cobra said in an instant. "Kyouka and Seilah made me bunk next to you. You told me about how your dad tried to kill you for wearing your mom's makeup after she died. You had insomnia, and I couldn't sleep anyway, so I'd walk around with you at night."

' _Wrong. We met in the Tower of Heaven…'_ Midnight's head tilted to the other side. "And who's Lucy?"

"Our best friend," Cobra said. "And your fucking girlfriend if you'll get your head out of your ass and realize she fucking loves you."

_'Wrong. We tried to kill her twice now. And I definitely don't want to date the crazy wench.'_

"And how did you meet her?"

"At the orphanage," he said. "Laxus' old man had her parents killed. She saw the whole thing, and pointed the finger at him. Then she was put in the orphanage with us because she's fucked in the head… Like we are."

_'He didn't meet Lucy officially until we locked her in that clock.'_

"And who is she to you?"

"My sister," he said.

_'She's nothing to Cobra. They don't talk to each other. I'm pretty sure she's still scared of him.'_

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Just the guy who raped Lucy."

_'He's protective of her… That's odd. And Cobra has killed hundreds of people. He usually laughs while he's doing it.'_

Midnight blinked slowly, then turned his attention to Bickslow. "And who's Bickslow to you?"

"My fucking boyfriend, you asshat," Cobra snarled.

_'As far as I know, this is the first time they've been this close to one another in the history of fucking ever.'_

"And what's the Tower of Heaven?"

"The what?"

_'Oh, that's not good.'_

"The Oracion Seis?"

Cobra frowned when Midnight looked back at him. "Sentence… six? My spanish isn't that good."

_'He doesn't know about our old guild? Probably should leave out the Neo-Oracion Seis.'_

"What about Crime Sorciere?"

"Based on cognates, probably sorcerer crimes or some shit."

_'Part of me wants to believe he's fucking with me. That would be a Cobra thing to do. But the look in his eye… he's being serious.'_

"And what magic do I use?"

Cobra blinked slowly. "Are you fucking high?"

 _'Not a single joke about me being some creepy Dreamweaver. It's official.'_  Midnight chuckled and shook his head. "Not at all. But you're not Cobra."

"I am."

"How did you get the name Cobra?"

"From Lucy when we were kids. Laxus tried to beat the shit out of her, and I bashed his face in with a rock."

_'Brain gave him that name. Just like he named me Midnight.'_

"Well, you might be Cobra where you're from, but you're not  _our_  Cobra," Midnight said. He stood to his full height and turned toward a different bed across the room. Once he was seated, he looked back at the two men on the other bed. "This is just a dream, Erik. You'll wake up soon."

Cobra looked up at Bickslow and frowned when everything went hazy again in the same shades of grey and silver as the last time he'd passed out. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but as he lost the fight to stay awake, he felt Bickslow's arms still holding him close.

That was at least a little reassuring.

* * *

He woke up for the third time, and everything was different. This time, he felt fuzzy and more than fucking confused. He refused to open his eye for a long while, partially because it just wouldn't cooperate, and partially because he didn't want to wake up in that place again.

But then he heard beeping from machines, and felt something applying constant pressure to one finger. There was something heavy on the right side of his face. He wasn't wearing shoes, and he could feel the stiff sheets that he knew they used in hospitals. Things smelled sterile, like a hospital. The voices in his head were long gone. He couldn't hear anything aside from his own breathing and those machines.

Paper shifting over itself drew his attention off to one side, and he finally opened his eye. Bickslow sat in an uncomfortable blue hospital chair with an open book in his hands, but his attention was on Cobra.

"Hey, you," he said, a soft smile stretching across his lips.

Cobra sighed in relief. It was Bickslow. His Bickslow. There was no tattoo on his face. No weird clothes and no metal visor covering his eyes. Just his sexy, perfect fucking boyfriend wearing university sweatpants and a tank top and his running sneakers. "Bixy," he hummed with a smile of his own. "I missed you."

He was clearly confused, but he chuckled all the same while closing his book and setting it on the floor. "Those meds must be fucking with you, baby. I came as soon as Midnight called me."

"The lab?"

"Not too much damage, I think." Bickslow stood from his seat and helped Cobra find the button on the bed to move it to a sitting position. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, smiling when Cobra's hand instantly sought his out. His thumb lightly brushed over tape on the IV in his hand. "You're the one I care about, though. How are you?"

He let out a quiet hum, the left corner of his lips lifting into a small, content smile. "Happy to see you… Mm, so happy."

Bickslow's smile widened as he gazed at his boyfriend. Cobra looked exhausted. He'd looked so fucking fragile while he was unconscious after surgery. And even though Bickslow had been watching him for the past couple hours, staring at the gauze covering half of his handsome face, it was even worse to look at it with Cobra actually awake. "The doctor came in a bit ago. She said you'll have to be here for a few days."

"Don't care," Cobra said. He shook his head slowly only to wince when he felt pressure on the right side of his face. That was definitely unpleasant. "You're here. I can take it."

"You lost your eye, Coby," Bickslow sighed. His thumb brushed across Cobra's knuckles in a gentle caress. "They couldn't save it. Midnight got pictures of everything."

"It's gone?" When Bickslow nodded, he winced again. That just made him think about that fucked up bizarro dream world he'd been stuck in with the wrong Bickslow, wrong Lucy, and wrong Midnight. His eye had been missing in his dream. Maybe he'd known on some subconscious level that he'd lost it? That had to be it. "Well, shit."

"It'll be alright though." Bickslow grinned when Cobra looked at him again. "I bet you're gonna look super sexy when all this gauze comes off. Maybe you'll even have a sexy scar."

"You gonna lick it, you freak-ass?" Cobra chuckled.

"I just might." He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the corner of Cobra's mouth, then another to his knuckles. "I called up Gajeel, by the way. He's gonna help me move everything into the apartment tomorrow."

That's right. They were supposed to move into their new apartment the day of the accident. Cobra wasn't sure how long had passed since that day, but he did know that he wasn't going to be helping anyone move any fucking boxes in his condition. Maybe he'd only been out for a few hours, but when he looked outside, it was dark. There was a whole day gone. If only he hadn't wanted to get a few hours in at the lab. If only he hadn't had a fucking breakthrough in the middle of the night that had kept his ass up well into the wee hours of the morning. If he hadn't been trying to think about his work  _and_  how he was going to one-up Midnight on saying 'Happy Birthday' to Lucy first, then he wouldn't have gotten hurt.

"Bix, will you hold me?" he whispered. In an instant, Bickslow moved so he was stretched out on the bed and Cobra adjusted so he could rest the uninjured side of his face on his chest. Strong arms wound around him, caged him in, and damnit this felt so much better than that dream Bickslow holding him. It was different, and he could feel it right then.

That other Bickslow didn't know how to hold him, how to make him feel so fucking content. Not like this. Not like  _his_  Bickslow. "I had the weirdest fucking dream…"

"Tell me about it."

Cobra smiled as their fingers laced together, and did just that. He left out some of the more personal details from when he'd been talking to that Bizarro Midnight, and he didn't mention that he'd been hearing voices in his dream at all. Bickslow really didn't need to know about that right then. But as he told the story, all he could think about was how happy he was to have this Bickslow and not that other one. "The glowing eyes were nice though," he said. "Really sexy, actually."

"I'll get a blacklight then," Bickslow laughed, kissing the top of his head. "You'll flip when you see what my eyes do in a blacklight."

Cobra laughed with him, and then he groaned as pain lanced its way down his face. Right away, Bickslow's fingers were in his hair, trying to soothe him as best as he could. And fuck, did Cobra appreciate that.

"I'm so glad you're here with me, Bix."

If they weren't together, it would have been Lucy and Midnight sitting there with him. And while it was comforting to have the two people that had known him almost his entire life, sitting by his side and watching over him, it was different with Bickslow. He felt better knowing that his boyfriend wanted to be there with him, even though they couldn't do a whole lot of anything together.

He felt loved with Bickslow holding him, smoothing his hair down.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, baby," Bickslow said.

"I'm exhausted."

"Get some rest. I'll tell the nurse when he comes in that you were up for a little bit."

"You won't leave?"

"Not until tomorrow at noon," he said. "I'll bring Gajeel by after we finish moving everything though."

Cobra nodded and closed his eye. He didn't want to lay back down. And he definitely didn't want Bickslow to move. He was going to stay right fucking there, cuddled up with his boyfriend, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. This was his home, not with that other weird Bickslow. And while Cobra knew that he really did need to tell his boyfriend about some of his fucking mental problems, he wasn't going to worry about it right then.

He was finally, truly happy in a relationship. He was content. He loved every moment with Bickslow. And after that strange fucking dream and being in a place where Bickslow wasn't really Bickslow, he knew for a fact that he didn't want to change a single thing about his life. If things went his way, they'd be together for a very long time. Maybe forever.

Cobra smiled while drifting off to sleep, with thoughts of growing old with the man beside him fluttering around in his head.


	4. Unconventional

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you know how there's the occasional weird chapter from me? And how yesterday's was pretty odd? Well, have another one. A ridiculous chapter that I hope will make you chuckle at least once.

_Erik is 20. Bickslow is 22._

* * *

It had been a week since they'd gotten an apartment together, but it was Cobra's first morning waking up with Bickslow by his side. Considering that accident in the lab had happened the day they were supposed to move in and he'd been stuck in the hospital for the rest of the week, he was definitely happy to be home with his boyfriend of a year.

It was still odd to think of this as  _their_  home. As his home with another person. His first apartment, the first time he lived with someone that wasn't Midnight or Lucy, and it was his boyfriend. His sweet, lovable dork of a boyfriend. If he could have smiled without it pulling the stitches running down the right side of his face, Cobra would have. Still, he loved that he could wake up next to Bickslow, that he could shift just slightly in their bed and feel Bickslow move right along with him, those strong arms tightening around him. It still baffled him that he could feel so fucking safe while being held from behind.

They shared several slow, sleepy kisses and got out of bed separately. Cobra just wanted to lay there and soak in the scent and warmth that was left behind while Bickslow went to the bathroom. And he definitely didn't have a problem seeing that delicious fucking body walking away from him with tan skin stretched over taut muscles. His single eye trailed lower, to Bickslow's narrow waist and the curve of his bare ass, toned thighs and strong calves. If he moved just a little, and he really did do it, he could watch Bickslow take a piss and wash his hands. Brush his teeth. Whip out the shaving cream and a razor and get down to business in being a clean-cut, sexy motherfucker. It was the weekend, but he still shaved. It wasn't like they had anything to do that day, but Cobra preferred how he looked without stubble.

It wasn't until Bickslow used the washcloth he'd left out the day before to wipe his face that their eyes met. Maybe he'd felt Cobra staring at him, but really… He just couldn't help himself.

"You are the sexiest motherfucker I've ever seen," Cobra sighed. Was it a bit wistful? Probably. He was seriously considering blurting out how he felt about Bickslow right then, but he reminded himself that it probably wasn't the best time to do it. Hell, they hadn't even had sex. Nearly a year together, and they were still fucking around in Foreplay Forest.

Okay, so maybe he'd been over the moon about letting Bickslow learn the ins and outs of giving a blowjob instead of just receiving one. For having never been with a man before, Bickslow had caught on pretty fucking fast how to suck a dick. Maybe too fast, since he seemed to excel at making Cobra moan and writhe and beg for mercy within minutes. So quickly sometimes that they had agreed Cobra wasn't allowed to grab Bickslow's hair until his hands were placed there.

And it wasn't as though the time they'd been together was all about physicality. They were both busy with school, Bickslow had his grandmother that he was visiting a little more often now that she knew he was dating a guy, and Cobra found that he actually liked going out on dates for a change. A date was no longer a boring, obligatory chunk of time spent together just to lose themselves in bliss between the sheets after the fact. Now, he found himself looking forward to their walks down the street to a nearby restaurant, sitting in the park and talking, playing laser tag with their friends and boasting of their superior hunting skills. And if nothing happened afterward, Cobra still felt as though his time had been well-spent.

Besides, all the times where they'd gotten hot and heavy under the sheets, he'd intentionally held back. First, it was getting Bickslow used to the idea of doing a little more than kissing, allowing him to set the pace of when he was comfortable moving forward. Then it was Cobra's insecurity about the scars littering his back from his childhood before the orphanage; that had eventually culminated in a long night of wandering hands and sensual, oily massages for both of them in Cobra's old dorm room that Midnight had moved out of when he left school to pursue special effects makeup. And now it was just a matter of seeing if Bickslow would bring it up at all. Maybe he just didn't want that level of intimacy. Maybe the thought was a little too much for him, because he didn't know that Cobra's preference was getting fucked instead of doing the fucking when he was with a guy - something that was apparently a huge surprise to everyone he'd slept with because  _he just seemed like a top_  or some stupid bullshit.

"Are you still high from your pain meds, Coby?" he chuckled.

Cobra shook his head, giving a little half smile in response. "I'm gonna need them soon though. This shit hurts."

"Well, if you get out of bed, I'll make breakfast and you can medicate yourself." Bickslow made sure to give him a playful wink. It let Cobra know that he wasn't teasing him about the several bottles of medication that were in their medicine cabinet that had nothing to do with his injury. He really appreciated the fact that Bickslow was so understanding about his fucked up brain. Even if he didn't know what the five different bottles were for.

"What's for breakfast?"

"Well, it's Saturday, and we have nothing to do all day."

"This is true."

Bickslow hummed while crawling onto the foot of the bed, a slow smile stretching while Cobra rolled onto his back. He straddled Cobra's thin hips, covered with their new grey comforter, and his hands moved on a meandering path over a maroon happy trail and up to his shoulders. "Something half healthy and half ridiculously bad for us?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Dinner for breakfast."

Cobra chuckled into the slow kiss they shared and lightly massaged Bickslow's thighs, up to his hips. Still so fucking naked. Good god, why hadn't he nudged Bickslow in the direction of getting down and dirty? His boyfriend was utterly delectable. He was a damn moron. "What do you have in mind?"

"Broccoli covered in cheese," Bickslow said, kissing him again. "Rice." And again. "Liver and onions."

Cobra pushed him away, and stared. Hard. "What?"

"Liver and onions. Sautéed onions, then pan-seared liver. It's delicious." Bickslow sat up and self-consciously rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I think it is. Memaw cooked it all the time when I was growing up."

"Liver and onions. For breakfast."

"We don't have to," Bickslow said. "I mean, I could just get some ice cream and-"

"No." Cobra sat up on his elbows and hooked a hand around Bickslow's head, dragging him right back down into a kiss. "I'm seriously a lucky bastard."

"Huh?"

Cobra smiled, then instantly regretted it when he felt his stitches pull beneath his bandage. Bickslow's fingers feathered across the tape on his forehead. "I like it," he said. "Seilah made it every once in a while, and I was the only one who would eat it with her."

"With ketchup?"

"Of course with ketchup," Cobra smirked. "I'm not a fucking heathen."

Bickslow grinned and kissed him again, mumbling against his lips, "I'm gonna marry the shit out of you one day." They both knew it was a joke, and they both laughed in the quiet hush of the morning while their lips met again and again.

* * *

The food was made and Cobra sat on the couch while Bickslow pulled over several boxes full of books that had yet to be unpacked to act as a coffee table. He set down a plate of liver, the bottle of ketchup from the fridge, a large bowl of onions, another of rice, and a third large bowl of broccoli covered in melted cheese. Their plates were dished up quickly, and Cobra found himself chuckling when Bickslow reached over and cut up his food into small, toddler chunks so he could eat it more easily.

It was even more adorable when a woven placement was set over his bare legs before he could put his plate down.

"Feeling a little better now?" Bickslow asked, situating himself on the couch as well.

Cobra sent him a small smirk. "Sitting naked on the couch, eating dinner for breakfast," he said. "Couldn't be better."

"I meant your face," Bickslow laughed. "And we're not naked, Coby. We're wearing socks."

Cobra held up the bottle of vicodin he'd just taken a pill from. "Any minute now, I'll feel like a million bucks. But we need something on tv. No cartoons."

Bickslow scoffed and grabbed the remote to start flipping through channels. "As if I'd put on morning cartoons," he said. "Shit nowadays sucks."

"I miss He-Man."

"You would."

"X-Men, too."

"Pretty sure the meds are kicking in, baby." He glanced over when Cobra took a bite of liver, watching as the fork, piled high with onions and slathered with ketchup, slipped between his barely parted lips. He chewed slowly, careful of the stitches running down onto his right cheek, then swallowed.

"So good," Cobra sighed. "Bixy, make this for me every day."

"Hell no. We would reek from the onions."

"I'll get over it." Cobra knew the only reason they had liver this fucking delicious was because Bickslow had gotten it as a housewarming present from his grandmother. Freshly slaughtered calf liver, individually vacuum sealed and put in the freezer for when he was ready to have it.

Bickslow shook his head and turned his attention back to the television, then smirked. "Choice.  _Shaving Ryan's Privates_ or  _Pocahotass_  or…"

"Does that say  _Whorrey Potter and the Sorcerer's... Balls_?"

Bickslow blinked, then moved down on the tv guide. "Yes," he said. "Yes, it does."

"The info's too small for me to read right now," Cobra said, biting back a smile. "Read it to me?"

"Young gay man Whorrey is taken to the wizard academy by his joyful drag queen guardian Hagrid. There he befriends two male students, Himmione and Ron. They try to steal the balls of a feared evil wizard." Bickslow snorted. "That sounds like the gayest shit ever."

"Jesus fucking Christ… Gimme another one."

Bickslow took a quick bite of his food. "Edward… Oh my god.  _Edward Penishands_."

"No."

"Yes. A door-to-door  _dildo_   _saleswoman_  stumbles across Edward, and upon discovering the advantages of his hand-substitutes, brings him home, where he falls in love with her daughter."

"Put it on," Cobra said. "Put that shit on, Bix."

Bickslow really couldn't deny him when he sounded so ridiculously excited by it, mumbling around a mouthful of food. He clicked the movie and set down the remote, and started eating while they watched what was clearly only the beginning of a very low-budget porn.

" _Are you all alone?" the blonde woman asked, setting down her briefcase. "What a shame." She walked across the darkened room and the camera angle changed to show the man she was moving toward, shivering in the corner and wearing all black. "It must get lonely here all by yourself."_

"Oh my fucking god, his hands are dildoes," Cobra snickered. "This is priceless."

_She moved closer still, and his arms wrapped around her. The dildo-hands stuttered and shuddered across her body. "Oh! Oh my! Be careful with those things!"_

" _I'm sorry," he said, his voice flat and his pale face showing no emotion. "They seem to have a mind of their own…"_

" _Aw, that's okay," she crooned, rubbing her body against his. "I understand. You let them go wherever they want."_

Bickslow choked on the broccoli he was trying to swallow. "That is… just the fucking worst," he coughed.

"Worst acting ever," Cobra said, nodding. A moment later, he spit out a mouthful of rice right back onto his plate. "Dick-hands smacking her fucking face!"

Bickslow's rice went flying out of his nose and his eyes teared up in an instant. Still, hearing Cobra laugh so hard was worth the discomfort of grains in his sinuses. Since the accident, he hadn't really laughed. Not like this. There had been a lot more smiling from him, but his only eye was always hazy from the painkillers he'd been given when it happened. It was never as wide a smile as it had been, but he knew that Cobra was trying to be careful of his stitches so he didn't pop them.

Still, it was all worth it. Even moreso when Cobra finished his first helping and dished up more food, only to pout at his plate.

"What's wrong?" Bickslow asked.

"Will you cut up my food? You cut it so good… Perfect little baby bite liver bits…"

That was just adorable.

* * *

Lucy hummed while unlocking the door to Erik's new apartment with Bickslow, holding a couple envelopes that he needed for the upcoming fall semester. She knew that he and Bickslow were probably still sleeping, but she wanted to go and check on Erik, see how he was settling in. And she wanted to make sure Bickslow wasn't over his head with taking care of her pseudo-brother while he was on painkillers.

She stepped inside and kicked off her flats, then made her way to the living room when she heard the television. Her wide, honey eyes only widened further and her lips parted only to slam shut again, over and over. Slowly, she walked around the couch, still staring intently at the low-quality porn on the screen, and finally turned to look at the two men who were watching it.

The last thing she'd expected was for them to be naked. Stark naked, save for their socks, with matching cloth placemats over their hips and steaming plates of food atop those.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Bickslow chuckled.

"Bix, she's a horny Throbbit," Cobra replied, never looking away from the screen. His fork scraped one way and another across his plate, then he frowned and looked down to find some food. "She has to fuck a virgin, because of the holiday."

"Baby, why are you actually following the plot?!"

"Because Misty Mundae is underwhelming, at best, in this," Cobra said. "She was better in  _Spider Babe_."

Lucy blinked, staring as hard as she could. "Wh-What the fuck?!" Cobra and Bickslow looked over at her, smiled in greeting, then went right back to watching their porn. It was official, the things that had happened in her life before this moment had done nothing to her. This was the moment where she was scarred for life.

"Don't judge my life," Bickslow said with a snort.

"N-No, it's fine!" Lucy said a little too loudly. "It's all fine! You're fine, Erik's fine. The porn is fine, and all is well with the world. And-"

Cobra chuckled and grabbed a piece of broccoli, then set his plate on the floor and stood, holding the placemat over his crotch to keep a small amount of Lucy's sanity intact. Still, she was rambling, looking anywhere but at the two of them. "Da-dum," he hummed, wiggling the broccoli closer to her rapidly flapping lips. "Da-dum. Da-dum da-dum da-dum… Broccoli Shark!"

Lucy squeaked when he pushed the food into her mouth, glaring right at the drug-induced grin Erik was giving her. It was cold, and the cheese that had been melted on top of it wasn't exactly the most pleasant consistency, but she chewed it regardless. Her glare softened by whole heaps when his cheesy finger bopped her nose. "Did you just  _Jaws_  me?"

"The pain meds are making him loopy as hell," Bickslow said. "I'm just going along with it."

"Yus," he said, pinching her cheeks together to give her a fishy face. Bickslow paused the movie in the background, and Cobra was unaware of the eyes weighing heavily on his bare ass. "Want some dinner?"

Her nose crinkled a moment later at the smell in the air. "Is that…" And when she looked down at the cardboard boxes acting as a coffee table, her suspicion was confirmed. "Ew, you're eating liver?!"

Cobra plopped back down into his seat and picked up his plate. "Bixy made it," he said, taking another bite of cold food. He didn't care that it was cold and had been for a couple hours. It still tasted delicious. Mostly because Bickslow was the one who cooked it just for the two of them. Just for him. "It's delicious."

Lucy shook her head and pulled the plate from Cobra's hands, then dropped the envelopes on the couch while grabbing Bickslow's plate as well. "Well, you can have leftovers," she said. "No getting sick from eating food that's been sitting out." His lips parted with a small frown, and she added, "No, I won't throw the liver out, even though I still don't understand how you can stomach it. It'll all go in the fridge, and you can heat more up later."

Bickslow was a bit surprised by the sudden mother hen tone from her, but when he looked at Cobra to see whether he was going to get snippy with her, all he found was another silly little smile sitting on his lips. "What's up?"

Cobra watched Lucy walk to the kitchen with their plates, and turned to his boyfriend while she came back to get the rest of the dishes. "You guys take good care of me," he mumbled. He tossed the placemat to the floor, unaware of Lucy rolling her eyes at the unwelcome sight of his genitals, then crawled across the couch. Bickslow turned slightly, and Cobra hummed while laying himself across his scrumptious, southern-grown boyfriend.

"You're adorable," Bickslow said as his arms wrapped around Cobra's scarred back. They shifted until both were comfortable, with his head on the armrest and Cobra lying completely on top of him, their legs intertwined and sock-covered feet brushing against one another. He winced when something sharp poked him in the thigh, and reached down to grab the envelopes Lucy had dropped. Giving them a glance, he realized they were addressed to Erik. And it was when he really looked at the name on the envelope that he realized what his boyfriend's last name was. Heartfilia, just like Lucy. "You never told me Lucy was actually your sister."

"She's not. We met in the orphanage after her parents were killed," Cobra sighed.

Lucy came back into the living room with the grey comforter from their bed, then draped it over them. Anything to spare her poor eyeballs from staring at Erik's ass. She'd seen enough of it growing up with him and Macbeth as her two best friends. Bickslow grinned up at her, but she'd heard what he asked Erik. And considering he probably wasn't really thinking all too clearly right then, Lucy figured she could fill in the blanks. "He didn't know his last name before coming to the orphanage," she said. "No one did. When we started going to school, Kyouka had to fill out paperwork to give him a last name. She said it would be easier for him if he had one, and he could choose whatever he wanted."

"Makes sense," Bickslow said. "Filling out papers and shit with no surname would be a hassle."

She nodded, taking a seat by their feet. She laid a hand on what she knew was Erik's calf and gently massaged it, watching as a slow, sleepy smile barely curled his lips. "Well, he didn't know what to choose, and we were all trying to come up with names together for him. Granted, we were really young at the time, so most of them were stupid."

"I could've been a Jones or a Smith… or a Snakeman… or… Mm, that feels nice, Bright Eyes."

She laughed quietly and shook her head. "Finally, I told him that he could share mine with me. I was the last Heartfilia, and I figured I could give my name to whoever I wanted. So, he's been a Heartfilia ever since then, even though no one ever knows what his last name is anyway."

"Because  _someone_  likes his secrets," Bickslow teased, pressing a kiss to Cobra's hair.

"What's with the letters?" Cobra asked. His smile widened when he felt Bickslow gently massaging his back beneath the blanket while Lucy opened the envelopes. She scanned them quickly, then set them down on the cardboard boxes nearby.

"One's from the school, letting you know your classes are paid for. I already went down to the registrar's office to find out how much was left after your scholarships, since that grant you have is for your experiments, and I paid the rest of it for you."

"Thanks," he mumbled. "I'll get some more scholarships or some shit, so you don't have to keep doing that."

Lucy shrugged, even though he didn't see it. "The other one's from the hospital. Since I've got medical and financial power of attorney for you, they contacted me about the bill. It's all settled."

Cobra frowned and his eye slid open to look over at her. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's no biggie," she said, smiling. "What else am I gonna use my money for?"

"Bright Eyes, you don't have to pay for everything," he said, a little more firmly. "You're already paying your tuition, Midnight's while he was taking classes with us, and now you're paying for his other school shit, plus my tuition. And then you bought Gajeel new equipment when he started his apprenticeship. And I already know that you sent money to Kyouka and Seilah for the orphanage again this year."

Lucy shrugged again, still smiling at him. "Well, it was my dad's money, Erik," she said. "And now it's mine. You and Macbeth wouldn't have been able to come to college with me otherwise, and I wasn't going to go off and leave you two to work shitty fast food jobs just to save up. We've gone over this."

"But you didn't have to pay for my medical shit."

"It's no problem," she insisted. She sighed when he just kept glaring at her. "Erik we went over this when we turned eighteen. I've got money from my inheritance, more than I really need, and you and Macbeth both insisted that I invest some of it, so it's just gaining more revenue now. I wanted all of us to have the best chance at doing whatever we wanted."

"I've taken enough of your money."

"Then when you're some famous scientist winning the Nobel prize, buy me a pair of shoes or something," she laughed. "Really, it's fine. I'd rather you don't have to worry about trying to sort out payment plans or anything like that. Just focus on getting better and getting back to the lab."

Before Cobra could say anything else, Bickslow pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. "He says thank you, Cosplayer." She stayed for another minute, making sure that they didn't need anything, hovering over both of them like a worried mother. Finally, Lucy pressed kisses to both of their heads and left, saying she'd text before coming in next time to make sure they weren't naked or  _doing it_. Apparently, she didn't know that they still hadn't gotten to that point in their relationship.

Cobra sighed once he was sure Lucy was gone. "I can't believe she did that."

"She cares about you." Bickslow gently brushed his fingers through Cobra's hair, careful of the gauze and tape that reached nearly to his hairline. "I think it's pretty awesome of her to do that for you and Midnight though. A lot of people aren't like that."

"She's always been like that. When she turned eighteen, all of her old man's money that was left to her was released from some trust fund she didn't know about. A lawyer came down to the orphanage to have her sign all the paperwork for it. Right away, she had all these plans about how she was going to spend it - how much she could help out at the orphanage, other charities in the city, sending all of us to college long enough to get PhD's if we wanted, buying a brand new car for each of us so we wouldn't have to walk everywhere or take the bus all the time…"

"But you and Midnight toned it down, I see," Bickslow chuckled.

"Yeah. We said college was fine. We didn't need cars, though. We agreed to just get one car for the three of us, just in case, and Midnight's pretty much the only one who uses it now that he's not in the dorms. Kyouka said she was only allowed to donate so much to the orphanage in a year. And even after all that, Lucy's still loaded. And still trying to spoil all of us."

Cobra really didn't blame her for wanting to make things easier for them in ways only money could, but sometimes he just felt like he was coasting through life. Like he was some freeloader, riding on her coattails. He had her last name, and he'd found that there were people who still recognized the influence her father had had when he was still alive, which transferred to deference with Cobra just because of the name Lucy gave him.

It was hard as hell to not feel bitter about it, if he was being completely honest.

And when he considered the fact that Bickslow knew he didn't work, and that he planned on footing all the bills for them to live together, it was worse. Sure, he knew that Bickslow had worked for his grandmother for years and saved all of the money she'd paid him, and that he worked during the summer months doing odd jobs, so he was pretty well off.

But Cobra had never had that. He'd never held a job for long because of how long it had taken for him to be properly medicated (and actually consistently  _take_  said medication). His teenage years had been spent fucking around while Lucy and Midnight both got jobs. Then they all came to college together, and in the back of his head, he'd always known that Lucy would foot the bill no matter what he chose to do. That was just how she was. Sure, he got grants for his experiments, and he got a scholarship here and there to go toward his tuition or housing, but-

"You're brooding," Bickslow whispered. "What's got you down?"

"Bix, am I just some freeloader?"

"No," he said without hesitation. "Coby, why would you ask that?"

He shrugged and melted into Bickslow's embrace as strong arms tightened around him. "Meds are making me stupid," he muttered in resignation.

"Well, for what it's worth, I think you don't have anything to worry about. You told me before we moved in together that you don't work, and I know how to budget my money. Memaw pays for my college shit already, and if we really need help with anything, I can always ask her for a loan."

"I don't want you to do that."

"It's fine," he said, kissing the soft maroon strands that tickled his nose. "That's just a worst-case scenario. The shit you do, it needs to have all your focus. I wanna be able to help with that. So let me worry about bills and shit, and you worry about all that science stuff that I will never hope to understand."

"You're sure?"

"Positive," he said, smiling at the uncertainty in Cobra's voice. "Just accept that people want to help, baby. Lucy loves you to pieces, and she just wants to help however she can."

Cobra nodded and shifted just enough to kiss Bickslow's bare chest, then smirked when his ridiculous boyfriend reached out for the remote to turn their movie back on. He'd completely forgotten they were watching  _Lord of the G Strings_  when Lucy showed up. But the pain meds were making him sleepy. It wasn't as though he was planning on getting down and dirty with Bickslow while they watched porn together - although he wondered if that was something they might end up doing one day - but Cobra didn't want to fall asleep.

He glanced at the clock and found that it was already nearly noon. He hadn't been up for long, maybe a few hours, but that was just his fucking life lately. Wake up, take his regular medication, wait a little while and then knock back the vicodin, eat something. And then get tired as hell and catch a nap for a couple hours. Stupid chemical reactions.

Cobra  _wanted_  to spend time with Bickslow, even if they were just watching poorly made porn together. He  _wanted_  to cuddle up together - which they were - but he wanted to be fucking conscious for it. Part of it. An active member of their snuggle-palooza.

"Fuck, I need to sleep," Cobra groaned.

"Hm?"

"Thinking about a snuggle-palooza," he said. "And how your body is like a giant muscled noodle…"

"Jesus, Coby," Bickslow laughed. "You are high as a kite."

"And you're so warm and…  _naked_." Cobra smirked and wriggled against him. "Super naked."

Bickslow laughed again, trapping his boyfriend's legs with his own to stop the friction from those tantalizing hips. He definitely needed that to stop before he got too excited. "And so are you."

Granted, Bickslow had been the one to suggest that they sleep naked together. He loved being able to feel Cobra's skin against his own. He loved having his chest against Cobra's scarred back, their legs tangled together. And sure, he might have possibly chickened out the night before when he'd wanted to finally have sex with his boyfriend, but that wasn't the point. Bickslow really fucking enjoyed how perfect Cobra felt in his arms.

It would probably be a bit easier for him to get into the whole intimacy thing with Cobra in that moment, with him being medicated and full of little smiles, and… giggling. Was he giggling? Yes. Yes, he was.

But that would be taking advantage of him. Boyfriend or not, Cobra wasn't in his right mind while high as all get out on painkillers. Which meant someone had to control this situation.

"Get a nap, cutie," Bickslow said.

"I'll get in your lap."

"That…" Good god, that sounded fabulous. "That's not what I said."

He really wanted that. He did. Bickslow was sure of it. He was just hesitant to take the steps necessary for them to finally just have sex. He was probably overthinking it. He'd never dated a man before Cobra. He'd never thought of any man as attractive like this. Every day with his boyfriend was new and exhilarating, but Cobra had told him on more than one occasion to just let shit happen as it came, and to stop things if he was uncomfortable.

He was always so freaking understanding. He was never pushy, even though Bickslow had noticed his… frustration… on several occasions.

Cobra pouted and propped his chin on Bickslow's chest. "Are we okay?" he whispered.

"Of course we are."

"You don't wanna leave me?" Cobra's hand slipped out from beneath the blanket, drawing slow, random patterns over the tan skin beneath him. "I'm a mess in my head sometimes. I don't wanna lose you."

Bickslow's shock over his question hadn't faded, but this was one of those rare times where he was able to read him. Cobra was so closed off sometimes that it was hard to know where they really stood on things. But right then, medicated or not, he was able to see a deeper layer of his boyfriend, the elusive little sliver of who he really was inside.

The fact that he was getting a glimpse of Cobra's insecurity was endearing.

"You won't lose me," Bickslow said. His fingers threaded through the soft, thick maroon strands in soothing circles. "And I don't want to leave you, Erik. I promise." Seeing that single, hazy indigo eye misting over with tears that Bickslow knew he wouldn't shed, and the wide smile from just the sound of his name, Bickslow knew he'd said the right thing.

"Can I still watch porn with you, or are you sending me to bed for my nap?"

Bickslow laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around his drugged up boyfriend. "This shit is our new  _Golden Girls_. And you're my sexy blanket. You can't leave."

"Dork."

"You just get comfy, Coby, and if you fall asleep then that's fine." Their attention shifted back to the television just in time to see Misty Mundae dropping the g-string onto the director's desk in the plot twist of all plot twists. They laughed together, just as they had when they sat down on the couch hours earlier. It was weird as hell. He'd never done anything like this with anyone before.

Bickslow had never felt comfortable enough with any girl he'd been in a relationship with to just lie around naked, joke around, and watch the most ridiculous garbage they could think of. He was sure, as he felt soft, slow breaths puffing out across his chest when Cobra fell asleep, that this was what perfection felt like.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pornos mentioned in this chapter are real. I swear to fucking god, they're really real. Do you have any idea how many punny pornos there are? Too many. And they're always low budget (even for porn standards).
> 
> I don't claim rights or any ownership to Shaving Ryan's Privates (2002), Pocahotass (1996), Whorrey Potter and the Sorcerer's Balls (2010), Edward Penishands (1991), or Lord of the G Strings (2003). The dialogue and description of what happens in any porn portrayed in this story are pulled directly from the source material… There was a lot of pausing and giggling.
> 
> I will say, before you go searching for them… You should be over 18 (that's a given), and just be ready to laugh. I was laughing hysterically while watching Edward Penishands with my husband, just to write this chapter.
> 
> Also, fun fact: Tim Burton has seen Edward Penishands. There's a Conan O'Brien interview from back in the 90's where he talks about it. Apparently he thought it was hilarious as well…


	5. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you guys are enjoying this week so far. The next few chapters are not going to be jumping in time as the story has so far. Instead, they'll be direct continuations, as though this was any other story. Also, because these chapters were originally supposed to be just a single chapter, and have been broken up into four separate ones, now… The prompts may not be perfect fits. Bear with me though. I just had to run with the inspiration.

_Erik, Lucy, and Macbeth are 20. Bickslow is 22. Laxus is 25._

* * *

Several months had gone by since Cobra lost his eye in the lab, and the beginning of the fall semester went off without a hitch. Time flew for everyone and the successful completion of midterms lined up perfectly with Halloween. Much to Bickslow's surprise, Cobra was fond of partying. He didn't like dressing up for Halloween, but he liked drinking with friends.

As Bickslow came to find out that night, Cobra's greatest joy at parties was goading Lucy into drinking - while simultaneously keeping a close eye on her with Midnight to make sure nothing happened to her - then poking fun at everyone around him who was far more intoxicated than he was. Luckily for Bickslow, an Angel Lucy and Zombie Midnight were of the firm belief that Cobra needed to be absolutely smashed by the end of the night, so he had allies.

They mostly ignored the costumed insanity in the rest of the frat house, choosing to stay in the kitchen. It gave them unlimited access to the booze, which was essential, and there was a constant stream of idiocy trailing through their domain to the large sliding glass door that led to the patio and pool. Freed, dressed as a French nobleman from the 1700s, made his way into the room and took a seat beside Lucy and Midnight at the island, with Bickslow and Cobra on his other side.

"Freed, my man!" Bickslow shouted, peering through the slats of his knightly visor. He'd gotten a great description of the ridiculous clothes he'd been wearing in Cobra's dream after losing his eye, and had gotten Midnight and a few of his friends at his special effects school to make it for him. Cobra's reaction to seeing it had been utterly hilarious. The poor thing had been positive he'd lost his fucking mind. "Come to imbibe of the grains with us lowly plebes!"

Cobra snorted and finished off his beer, quickly getting a refill from the keg nearby. "How do you turn into an intellectual only when you're drunk?" He let out a rather undignified squawk when he was pulled into Bickslow's lap on the barstool. He held up the red plastic cup, keeping it steady and grinning when none of the alcohol sloshed out. "Thank you, Physics Gods."

"I'm always an intellectual."

"I beg to differ," Freed said. He took a delicate sip of his own beer, and smirked when Bickslow glared at him. "You forget how long we have been friends, Bickslow. I know you."

Bickslow rolled his eyes and sent his attention back to Cobra while Freed turned to talk with Lucy and Midnight. "You still think I'm smart, right?"

"Of course," Cobra chuckled, patting his head. His fingers ruffled the purple plume of feathers on top of Bickslow's helmet. He still couldn't believe Bickslow had really dressed up as the ridiculous  _Bizarro Bix_  from his dream in the hospital. "For a theologian."

"We can't all be super scientists. But I'll take it." He grinned and swooped in for a kiss, groaning when Cobra pulled away to gulp down half of his beer. If he kept that up, he was going to be drunk in no time. And while Bickslow had no problems with his boyfriend being absolutely hammered, he knew that it was going to be an interesting feat to get him home later on.

The minutes ticked by with the group of five talking and laughing with one another. Eventually, Laxus ambled his way into the kitchen, without a costume just like Cobra.

"Laxus!" Bickslow shouted in greeting. "Hey man, how've you been?"

Piercing blue eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of Cobra sprawled, drunk and relaxed, across Bickslow's lap, then shifted to see Lucy and Midnight pausing in their own private conversation to watch him. Finally, he looked at Freed, sitting in the middle of the group, then over to meet Bickslow's gaze. "Good," he said. "Just finished a paper for my Marketing Management class, figured I'd come on down and unwind."

"Writing an essay?" Bickslow asked while Laxus got a beer and stood across the kitchen island from them. "You should have Cosplayer take a look at it before you turn it in. She's a proofreading  _boss_!"

Lucy smiled when he sent her a tongue-lolling grin. "Thanks, Bix."

"I'm good," Laxus said, ignoring the woman dressed as an angel entirely. "I don't need anyone to proof it."

"Yeah, okay," Bickslow laughed. "I've read your shit, man. I'm no English major, but even I know there shouldn't be all those squiggly red lines under words. Cosplayer, you'd look it over for him, right?"

Lucy blinked in surprise, then looked from Bickslow to Laxus. "Um…"

Noticing the rising tension in the man on Bickslow's lap, Freed leaned forward slightly. "Cobra, I heard about the accident in the lab over the summer. I am glad to see that you are doing well."

Cobra's lips tightened as his attention was drawn to the green-haired man. He knew just what Freed was trying to do, diffuse the situation. Since finding out about the drama between Lucy and Laxus years ago, Freed had taken it upon himself to try and keep the peace between their two groups. Laxus was his friend, after all, and if Freed had wanted him to still be allowed to hang out down at the orphanage, then he had to keep Laxus and Lucy away from one another.

They were older now, and Kyouka and Seilah were no longer there to keep them apart. Still, as Cobra looked at the jagged scar on Laxus' face, he still felt proud of what he'd done. He wouldn't hesitate to give that asshole another scar or two.

"Well, I won't make the same mistake again," Cobra said to Freed. "I always wear goggles now."

"A wise choice," Freed chuckled. "I was very concerned when I heard about what had happened."

Cobra wanted to say that if Freed had really cared, he would have made an effort to find out how he was doing. Except, they weren't close. Sure, they'd all grown up in the same orphanage, but Freed was Laxus' friend, which meant that he was most definitely  _not_  Cobra's friend.

"I showed Freed the pictures Midnight sent me," Bickslow said, resting his chin on Cobra's shoulder. "You should've seen how grossed out he was."

"It was highly unnecessary," Freed sniffed. He turned to Laxus then. "Did he subject you to them as well, Laxus?"

"Sadly, yes." It was unnerving, and had turned his stomach at the time, but part of him was glad that Cobra had gotten hurt. It served the little shit right for being a pain in his ass for the past fifteen years. It was even more worth it to see that he was actually missing the eye entirely.

"I still can't believe you showed them to everyone," Lucy laughed, ignoring the sideways glare sent her way from Laxus. "It was bad enough that we saw them. You were running around, scarring people for life."

"I think I only saw half of them," Cobra said, smirking.

"Probably because you've only got one eye," Laxus sneered into his cup.

* * *

It took a while for Bickslow to realize that something was wrong. He hadn't thought much about Lucy and Midnight deciding to head to a different part of the party shortly after Laxus showed up. He hadn't even noticed the venom in his friend's voice when they were gone and he grumbled about the "psycho twins" being out of his hair.

Cobra was a little more quiet, drinking a little more heavily, and smiling a whole lot less. Freed stayed though and Bickslow immersed himself in conversations with his two friends, trying to bring his boyfriend into it as much as possible. Trying, and failing miserably. The tension swelled between Cobra and Laxus, and Bickslow couldn't take it anymore. He didn't have a clue what their issues with each other were, but he definitely wasn't going to get stuck in the middle of it.

So, Bickslow did the only thing he could think to do. He pushed Cobra up from his lap and stood, then waved to Laxus and Freed and dragged his grumpy boyfriend to the living room where the liquor was. They'd been sticking to beer that night, and Cobra had said he really didn't feel like getting completely shitfaced, but they needed to unwind.

Sadly, he couldn't really have an in-depth conversation with his boyfriend over the blaring music. Finding out why Cobra and Laxus were having mini glaring contests would have to wait for another time. What he could do, however, was match Cobra shot for shot and marvel at his boyfriend's ability to hold his liquor. And once they were both far past buzzed and grinning like idiots, Bickslow dragged Cobra away from the booze and over to the impromptu dance floor in the living room.

They'd never really danced together in public before. Cobra wasn't one for dancing where people could see him. But in that moment, he just felt so right with his back against Bickslow's chest, hands sifting through his blue mohawk, pulling Bickslow's head down to his throat. There was nothing that could stop them. No one around them. It was simply Bickslow, his deliciously tanned boyfriend and the slim hips in his hands, and the steadily thrumming bass line that guided their movements.

Bickslow wasn't sure how long they danced together, how many songs came and went while he let himself get lost in Cobra's lithe body. Eventually, Cobra turned and brought their lips together in a blinding, toe-curling, the-hills-are-alive-with-the-sound-of-music kiss. He could taste the alcohol on Cobra's tongue as it curled around his own, but Bickslow really didn't care. Not when Cobra was kissing him as though they were seconds away from the apocalypse and this was the pivotal moment just before they were blown to smithereens.

When he pulled back, all Cobra wanted was to get Bickslow to the nearest corner and drop his fucking pants. Witnesses be damned, he wanted the man in his arms to bend him over the nearby couch and take him right fucking there. Judging by the look in those mesmerizing red and green eyes - he wasn't sure when the visor Bickslow had been wearing had disappeared, but he really didn't fucking care - Bickslow was right there with him. They'd been together for a year already, and they'd put it off long enough.

He knew Bickslow was ready. He could feel it in the thick bulge that was teasing his own rigid member through his jeans. The look in his eyes was full of hunger, desire, sending heat washing over Cobra in a heady wave that he wanted to get lost in forever.

"Bix…" His knees very nearly buckled at the sight of that devious, knowing grin from Bickslow. His eye began to drift closed as their lips moved closer, and then he felt it. More than the mounting tension between himself and Bickslow, there was something else in the room. Something heavy enough to silence the people around them. A sudden chill swept up the length of Cobra's spine, and he drew back, glancing around the room. Something was wrong, but he didn't know how he knew. Or why he would even feel that way.

It wasn't his usual  _off my meds_  paranoia. It was something else.

"Cobra?"

Bickslow's arms loosened around him, and he peered around his boyfriend's hulking frame toward the kitchen. That was where the problem lay. Lucy and Midnight were visible through the doorway. And so was Laxus, towering over them, his shirt and hair soaked with some sort of liquid.

Midnight glared up at Laxus, placing himself between the taller blond and Lucy. Without another thought, Cobra's feet moved toward them. Midnight wasn't a fighter, he was the guy who took care of Lucy while Cobra beat someone's ass, or got the shit kicked out of him in a fight while they ran. Grown they may have been, but that didn't change how he felt.

And considering it was Laxus, Cobra definitely wasn't going to leave them to their own devices.

"What the actual fuck?" Laxus spat, glaring at Lucy.

"Sorry," she said, peering over Midnight's shoulder. "It was an accident, Laxus. I swear!"

"Bullshit was it an accident, you-"

Cobra stepped between them, pushing Midnight further away. "Fuck off, shit-ass," he growled. "Leave her alone."

"This crazy bitch tosses her beer on me, and you expect me to leave her alone?!"

"Yeah, I do," Cobra shot back. "Lucy wouldn't throw her beer on anyone, let alone waste it on a piece of shit like you. If she said it was an accident, then that's what it fucking was."

"Or maybe she's just upset," Laxus said, sneering at her once again. "My old man's hearing is in a couple days, isn't it? What, are you scared they'll realize he was innocent?"

"Laxus," Freed said softly, "Leave it alone."

"What the hell is going on?" Bickslow asked, pushing past the gathered crowd to stand beside Freed.

"When he gets out, you'd better believe you'll get what's coming to you, you little bitch," Laxus chuckled.

Cobra moved before he even knew what he was doing. He wasn't aware of his fist sailing up and landing on the underside of Laxus' wide jaw, or his other fist flying right behind it. All he could think about was what Brain had said to him and Gajeel four years ago, the night they'd gone to kill him.

" _So here's the message: Ivan wants the little girl dead, but he's planning on doing it himself…"_

" _... they made us cellmates… I got to tell Ivan about my little faggot son who wears makeup… Ivan told me how he killed her father, and the little bitch was lying under Jude's corpse… now he's getting her back for it…"_

" _... she tried to fight back, so I hit her over the head with a rock. I can still smell her slutty little cunt at night sometimes. It's not what I was being paid to do but…"_

Brain had gotten out on parole a decade after trying to kill Macbeth, and he went after Lucy. All because of Ivan. He stalked her for that bastard. He raped her when she was sixteen, all to send her a message from Laxus' father - that she wasn't safe from him. And here Laxus was, excited about Ivan getting out of prison. He'd been tormenting Lucy ever since they were kids.

"Cobra, stop!" Bickslow shouted as Laxus threw a heavy right hook that landed square on his jaw, knocking him back several steps. Cobra didn't hear him, and instead lunged forward like a wild animal.

Midnight pulled Lucy further away from the wild punches being thrown left and right by the two, looking from Bickslow's horrified expression to Freed who was holding his arms out to keep people away from the fight. It had been a few years since the two had gotten into a fist fight over Lucy, but he'd been hoping it wouldn't happen again. Even though Ivan's parole hearing was in a couple days, and they were planning on going with her for support, Midnight had hoped that Cobra wouldn't go after Laxus. That it wouldn't escalate to this again.

He could tell that Cobra couldn't hear anything other than what he was thinking about. He had that crazed look in his eye again. Lucy knew it as well. They'd seen him like this several times over the years, always when he was fighting someone. He was lost in his memories again, but they couldn't tell if this was another time where he was thinking about his life before the orphanage, or something else.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you, asshole!" Laxus bellowed.

"I gave you that fucking scar," Cobra snarled, grinning wickedly. "How about I give you another one?" He reached down for an empty beer bottle and chucked it at Laxus' head, missing by several inches. He wanted to give Laxus another scar, more scars. He wanted this bastard to feel even half as scared as Lucy did when she was raped in a fucking alley by Midnight's father.

How dare Laxus be happy that Ivan was trying to get out of prison and hurt Lucy again?

"Fuck this," Bickslow said, taking a step forward. "I've gotta stop-" He paused when Freed stepped in front of him and blocked his path. "Freed, what the fuck?!"

"This might be good for them, Bickslow" Freed said. "Laxus and Cobra have never gotten along. They might need to just fight it out."

"Just fight it out?!" Bickslow shrieked. He gestured wildly over to the pair still throwing punches. "This is more than that, Freed!" Cobra broke a bottle over Laxus' head. "That just proves my fucking point! This has to sto-"

Everyone went silent as Cobra tackled Laxus through the sliding glass door and onto the back patio. Glass shattered and crashed to the floor, and Bickslow rushed past everyone to get to them. He found his boyfriend pinning Laxus to the ground, pummeling him and not letting him get a single hit in. A loud crunch accompanied one hit and blood began pouring from Laxus' nose.

Cobra snarled as thick arms wrapped around him and two large hands locked together on the back of his neck, effectively trapping his arms in the air while he was pulled off of Laxus. "This isn't over, you piece of shit! Come near her again, and I'll fucking murder you!"

"Cobra-" Bickslow started.

"Mark my fucking words, Laxus, not even your grandfather will recognize you when I'm fucking finished!"

"Cobra, that's enough!" Bickslow practically carried him back through the house, dragging him backwards while he struggled to get free. He glanced at Freed who nodded and rushed outside to help Laxus. Then to where Lucy and Midnight had been standing, only to find them missing. Maybe they'd run out while he was going after Cobra. It was probably for the best. The cops would be getting called soon, anyway.

They hadn't driven to the party, considering they were both planning on getting drunk and were going to just call a taxi. Except at that moment, Bickslow didn't want to waste the time to fish his phone out of his pocket to call one.

"Bix, let me go."

"So you can go running back in there acting like a lunatic?" Bickslow kept his arms locked away from his body, turning so he was being directed on where to walk.

"I won't go after him," Cobra said. "Call us a cab. I promise I won't go back inside."

Bickslow paused, waited, and listened to Cobra's heaving breaths. Finally, he let go and watched for any hint that Cobra had lied to him. When it was clear that he wasn't going back inside, Bickslow quickly called a taxi.

They didn't speak until they got back to their apartment. Once the cab pulled up to the building, Cobra jumped out and slammed the door, leaving Bickslow to pay the fare and rush after him. It wasn't until they were in the safety of their own apartment that either of them spoke.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Bickslow asked.

"He deserved it."

"Says who?!"

"Says me, Bix! Laxus can go fuck himself with his arrogant bullshit!"

Bickslow sighed and dropped down onto the couch with his head in his hands. He could hear Cobra pacing back and forth across the living room. "Cobra, I don't know what this is all about, but I don't want my boyfriend and my friend fighting whenever you guys are around each other."

"Well, that's just not gonna fucking happen!"

"Why not? What's so bad about Laxus that you can't just give him a chance?"

Cobra stopped in front of him and waited for Bickslow's gaze to meet his. Once their eyes were locked, he said, "All you need to know is that I've known Laxus since I was a kid, and he's always been a fucking asshole who doesn't know when to shut the hell up."

"Talk to me," Bickslow said. "Help me understand this."

"There's nothing to understand," Cobra said with a sneer. "He got what was coming to him."

"You know, I'm getting really fucking tired of you always saying that I don't need to know things," Bickslow muttered. Most of their relationship had been that way. Cobra never wanted him to know anything too deep, nothing too personal about him. It took months for him just to learn his boyfriend's real name, and he was sure the only reason he'd found out in the first place was because his Memaw was there.

It wasn't until they decided to move in together that he found out Cobra took five different types of medication for… something. He still didn't know what they were all for. He didn't know why Cobra had been in an orphanage. And he didn't know why he had scars all over his back.

More often than not, he felt like he didn't even know the man standing in front of him at all. There were times when he thought they were really making progress with each other, and then the secrets would come out. Something always happened for Cobra to pull away from him again, and damn it all, he was trying to be understanding about this. But there was only so much he could take. He gave and gave, and Cobra never returned the favor.

He didn't even know Cobra's last name was the same as Lucy's until after his accident, and it wasn't because his boyfriend had willingly told him.

Cobra never told him anything. Ever.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Cobra asked.

"It means just that. You never tell me anything. And when I ask a question, you get all evasive. You say it doesn't fucking matter. That I don't need to know. Like you're in some clandestine organization and if you told me, you'd have to kill me!"

"It's nothing like that!"

"Then what is it?" Bickslow finally stood and stopped Cobra from pacing again with his hands on his shoulders. " _Talk_  to me! For once, just fucking talk to me about something! Anything! Tell me what the hell is going on with Laxus, and why you decided to turn into a fucking animal back there!"

"Because he's an asshole," Cobra said. "That's all there is to it."

"Bullshit."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Bix."

"How about the fucking truth for a change?!"

His teeth ground together as he looked up at Bickslow. If he wanted the truth, then he could have it. It was something that Cobra had been adamant about not doing, but he couldn't stop himself. "I know we haven't been dating for long enough for me to do this, but… you have to choose. I can't be around that asshole, Bix. After all the shit he's done over the years, I fucking can't. I tried tonight, for your sake. But it's me or him."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Bickslow whispered. Based on the flat look he received, Cobra was serious. Dead serious. All this bullshit, their ruined night because of some stupid fight, and he wanted to throw out an ultimatum. "That's beyond fucked up."

"Is it?"

"You're asking me to choose between Laxus - who I've known for five years - or you! How is it not fucked up?!"

"I know what I'm asking you to do," Cobra ground out, "But I can't fucking do this. You're either friends with him, or you're dating me. If he's in your life, I don't want a fucking thing to do with you. I won't force myself to be around him, and I won't force  _you_  to deal with the bullshit between me and him. So choose."

The last thing he wanted was for Bickslow to take a step back, for his arms to drop to his sides while he stared down at him. Cobra wanted it to be a simple answer. It should have been simple for him.

"I'd never make you choose between me or your friends."

"None of my friends have tried to make your life a living hell since you were a goddamn kid."

"I…" Bickslow shook his head and took another step back. Then another. He couldn't deal with this. Not right then. "Fuck this."

Cobra stood rooted to the spot as Bickslow turned and stormed out, grabbing his keys and slamming the front door behind him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he didn't move. He couldn't. Because as soon as that door closed, he knew what he'd done was monumentally stupid. It was selfish and he was a fucking moron.

For the first time in his life, he actually cared whether or not someone wanted to stay with him, and he'd pushed Bickslow away. More than likely, he wasn't going to come back unless it was with boxes to pack his shit and leave. Or maybe he'd just make Cobra move out instead, since Bickslow was the one paying for the place.

He felt hot, angry tears burning his eye, but they never fell. Instead, he simply stared at the closed door and thought about what the hell he'd just done to screw everything up.

* * *

Bickslow didn't sleep that night. He sat in his truck and waited for himself to sober up just enough to drive. Part of him hoped, while he sat in the parking lot in front of their apartment, that Cobra would come out and stop him. The lights stayed on inside, but he didn't see any movement. After an hour, Bickslow was sure that Cobra would realize he hadn't left yet and that he'd come running. Maybe then they could sort through this shitstorm.

But one hour turned into two, then three. It was nearly six in the morning by the time Bickslow started feeling his buzz dying down completely. Enough to get the hell out of there. Cobra obviously didn't give enough of a shit to try and stop him from leaving, which meant that he could go wherever he wanted.

It wasn't until he was on the highway, heading south, that Bickslow realized he was still in his Halloween costume. He didn't care though. It was becoming increasingly difficult to really give a shit about anything.

He felt betrayed. No matter how little he really knew about Cobra, Bickslow had been sure that he wasn't the sort of man who would pull something so fucking low. He'd never come across as the kind of person who pitted friends against one another, who threw out ultimatums like this. What kind of fucking comparison was that? Cobra or Laxus?

Bickslow wanted to think about it while he drove, hoped with everything he was worth that he could figure out how to make this right, but he needed to focus on the road. And thinking about Cobra, the reason he wasn't curled up in their bed and sleeping off the worst of his hangover, was making it too hard to focus.

It wasn't until he pulled into the familiar parking space, slammed the door to his truck and trudged up the steps to the front door, that Bickslow realized what he'd really done.

It wasn't until the door opened to reveal his grandmother's worried green eyes, that he realized he was crying. Her arm wrapped around him, pulling him inside and toward the den off to the left of the entryway. He barely remembered to kick off his boots before stepping onto the carpet. She pushed him to sit down on the oversized couch, then took a seat at one end and placed a pillow on her lap.

He didn't need more prompting than that. Bickslow dropped to the side and curled up on the couch with his head in her lap.

She didn't say a word to him, and instead her cold, thin fingers threaded through his mohawk over and over again. She never pushed him to tell her things unless it was really important, and while Bickslow had expected her to do it then - he'd never come home like this before, after all - she didn't. She was silent. Patient. Letting him sort himself out.

It was the smell of her hand cream that did him in. The smell of mint and jasmine that always surrounded her was thick in the air around him. She'd probably only just put it on before he showed up. Smelling it brought back memories, so many memories of growing up with her in his life. All the good times, when she'd pat his cheek and smile at him for getting an A in school, or scoring a touchdown, or helping her carry something heavy. All the bad times, when she held him after a nightmare, after his mother had died and he'd stayed curled up in his bed and cried, when he tore his ACL during his junior year of high school and had to stop playing football for good. She was always there for him, always offering a shoulder to lean on.

She never judged him, no matter what. Even when he'd done something utterly moronic like getting arrested for drinking on the roof of the school, his grandmother had been there.

"Memaw, I'm so confused," he cried. She listened as he told her about what had happened the night before. Going to the party with Cobra, drinking and dancing, and then the fight with Laxus. He gave her every detail, told her everything he'd heard both men saying to one another. And then came the hard part. She knew that they'd moved in together, but by the time he got to the point in the story when he and Cobra had gotten home, his tears had died down. When he started telling her about their argument, he was forced to fight them back. It was a battle he lost pretty damn quickly.

"And then I left," he said. "And I waited and waited for him to come stop me, but he didn't…" She was silent through it all, just listening to him ramble for as long as he needed. "I-I love him, but he's making me choose…"

He hadn't even told Cobra yet. Bickslow had realized it around the time he'd seen Cobra lying in that hospital bed after the accident. Sometime between seeing him unconscious, looking so small and fragile with half his face covered in gauze, and when they went home together after he was discharged, Bickslow came to the conclusion that he really did love Cobra. He'd fallen for the little angry ball of cuteness.

But he hadn't been able to bring himself to say it. He wasn't sure if he even  _could_  tell Cobra how he felt. With the amount of problems they had - that no one really even knew about outside of the two of them - he'd wanted to keep his own secret. Just for a little while. But months came and went, and there was no indication from his boyfriend on whether those feelings were reciprocated.

She waited until she was sure he didn't have anything more to add, then said, "Bickslow, you have to do what you think is right. If you wanna be with Cobra, then maybe this friendship with Laxus has to get put to the side." He tensed, and her fingers kept drifting through his hair. "If there's no way to make things work so you can have both of them in your life, then you've gotta choose."

"It's not fair," he said, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. He wiped roughly at his face. "He's got no right to do this to me."

"Is that how you really feel about it?"

Bickslow very nearly nodded. He wanted to still be angry at Cobra for doing this, for making him choose, but the part that loved him just couldn't bear it. He didn't want to lose Cobra. At the same time, he didn't want to give up on his friendship with Laxus. Girls in the past had pulled this same stunt on him, and he'd left them with no issues.  _Choose between dating me or being friends with Mindy_  and stupid bullshit like that.  _Choose between me or going to the game with your friends_. It was always a no-brainer. He hated people who acted like that. He hated people who weren't truthful, who lied and manipulated their friends.

But Cobra wasn't manipulative. Was he? Bickslow had never thought he was.

"I wanna tell you a story," she said softly. "And I want you to think on it for a minute."

He nodded. This wasn't anything new. His Memaw had tons of stories from her long life, and more often than not she helped him sort out his own problems by sharing some of her own from the past.

"Now, your Pop-Pop was a good man," she began. "He mighta made some mistakes and skipped to a few skirts over the years…"

Oh, Bickslow knew all about his late grandfather's wandering dick syndrome. It had been a pretty big scandal in town for the longest time, considering he did it on and off for nearly twenty years, even when he was well into his seventies and Bickslow had been in middle school.

"Do you know why we stayed together no matter what happened?" she asked. He shook his head, looking up into her eyes. "He was honest with me about what he'd done, and we talked it all over."

"I don't get it," Bickslow muttered. "What does that have to do with Erik?"

"Not a thing," she said, smiling down at him. "His cheatin' was never really a problem. The problem was his best friend, Jackson Mueller. Now, mind you, this happened a long time ago when your Mama was only eight or nine.

"Jackson had his eye on me for years. Pop-Pop and me were high school sweethearts, and Jackson was always his best friend, but then he started tryin' to get me alone after I found out that Pop-Pop slept with Tracy down the road."

"He slept with Mrs. Carson?" Bickslow asked, grimacing with disgust. "My third grade teacher?" Granted, the woman was only a couple years younger than his grandparents, and she was retired, but still… that was disgusting.

"He did," she said. "Now Jackson helped out on the ranch with your Pop-Pop. They were thick as thieves, like a pair of Siamese twins got separated at birth. I didn't pay Jackson no mind for a few months when he started hangin' around. It was always just askin' for a glass of tea, maybe a snack before he went back out to the horses. But one day, I was out with the horses, checkin' on a mare who we were tryin' to get bred, and Jackson showed up. I didn't know what he wanted…"

Bickslow frowned up at the distant look in her eyes. "Memaw?" he said softly, worry curling in his gut. "What are you saying?"

She shook her head then, and smiled down at him again. "That was a long time ago, Bickslow. Nothin' happened. He told me that he heard about what Pop-Pop had done, and he was there for me if I needed someone to talk to. I said it was fine, that things like that belonged between two people, so if I needed to talk I'd be talkin' to my husband. Then he… Well, he tried gettin' physical. Tried sayin' that he'd never hurt me like Pop-Pop did, things like that." She watched Bickslow's face pale in an instant. "Your Mama came runnin' in, hollerin' about findin' some newt, and Jackson didn't have a chance to do a thing. But it was scary as all get out."

"Fuck, Memaw-" He winced when she flicked the space between his brows. "Sorry, ma'am…"

"I told Pop-Pop what happened with Jackson, but he didn't wanna believe me."

"But you're not a liar… why would you lie about something like that?"

"Sometimes we don't wanna believe what's right under our noses," she said. "Sometimes we just can't see it, because we don't wanna see it. But I told Pop-Pop that it was me and the kids, or Jackson. I couldn't be anywhere near Jackson anymore. I was scared of what he might try if I was alone, what might have happened if your Mama hadn't come in when she did. I made him choose his best friend or his family."

"But this isn't like that…" The words might have been similar, but this was completely different. He didn't have a family with Cobra, and Laxus sure as hell hadn't tried to  _force himself_  on Cobra. This was just his boyfriend and his friend being morons. "Memaw, it was just Cobra and Laxus fighting…"

"I bet those boys were fightin' for a reason. No one does what you said Erik did without a good reason."

His frown only deepened at that.

"And do you know… when I told your Pop-Pop that… I was so scared. I didn't know if he would choose us. I didn't know if I'd lose the man I loved more'n anything, but I still gave him that choice. It hurt to do it, to put that kinda faith in him, because what if he chose Jackson? What if he left us? The ranch was always mine, not his, so I woulda had to raise your mama and uncles, and take care of the ranch myself."

"But he chose you over Jackson, right?"

She found herself laughing gently at the youthful glimmer in his voice. So often, he reminded her of the little boy he'd been. "He did. Your Pop-Pop said our family meant the world to him, and he never wanted to give that up. Not even for Jackson. And no matter how many times he cheated on me after that day, it didn't make a lick o' difference to me. Because I knew he'd always choose me and our family to come home to at night. He chose us outta love, and that was all I cared about."

"So you're saying I should choose Erik, because I love him…"

"No, honey," she said, shaking her head. "You choose what you think is right. No matter what you decide, I'll support you. But you might wanna keep in mind, how scary it is to put that kinda faith in someone else."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Erik seems like a nice boy. He looked nervous as a long-tail cat in a room full o' rocking chairs when I met him though."

"Memaw, he's not that bad," he said quickly. "He was just uncomfortable here at first, is all. Erik never had a family, and he's never had anyone bring him home to meet their family before. He's really sweet when he's with me."

"Never had a family?"

Bickslow nodded, rolling onto his side to face the back of the couch. His eyes drifted closed when she started rubbing slow circles over his shoulder. "He was raised in an orphanage," he said. "He never got adopted, so he was there until he was eighteen. I don't know everything about it, but he said that before he was at the orphanage, people… hurt him."

He'd remembered at some point during the night that Cobra had told him at least that much about his past. He'd said that it was fucked up and that he really didn't like talking about it, even with Midnight and Lucy. Bickslow had readily agreed to let the subject drop at the time, but as soon as shit hit the fan, he'd questioned Cobra's commitment to him. He'd questioned how much Cobra really cared about him, since he was always so secretive.

"He told me that he doesn't trust people easily, because he thinks they'll hurt him."

He could remember so clearly the night they'd been in Cobra's dorm room, lying sideways on his twin bed, just talking. Midnight had been on a date with Milliana, so they'd had the room to themselves. Granted, they had only been friends at the time, just hanging out together and getting to know each other. But Bickslow remembered it in vivid detail.

The way Cobra had turned his head to look into his eyes, how his hands had been clasped over his stomach. He remembered Cobra's soft smiles while they joked around, the mischievous gleam in those twin indigo orbs.

" _Y'know, you're pretty fucking awesome," Cobra said. "I don't say that about many people, but you are."_

Compliments were so few and far between from him, that Bickslow had made a joke about it that night.

" _Do me a favor and don't take this the wrong way, alright?" Cobra shifted slightly, turning to look at the ceiling again. "If you were interested, I'd date you."_

" _You'd what?"_

" _I'd date you," he said, looking back at Bickslow. "I'm bisexual. I'm pretty sure you're straight as hell, so you don't need to worry about me creeping on your ass or anything."_

" _I am straight."_

" _Right. If you're not interested, no big deal. I just wanted to tell you, in case you decided you wanted to try it out or some shit. " Cobra shrugged, chuckled, and stretched out with his arms behind his head. "I wouldn't be opposed to taking your ass on a date and wooing the shit out of you."_

_Bickslow laughed at that. "I can't picture you wooing anyone, man."_

" _Me neither," Cobra snorted._

He hadn't lied. Cobra had never been one for grand romantic gestures. Bickslow really wasn't either. Nothing had come out of that admission from Cobra - aside from Bickslow finding out that Cobra was interested in him - and they'd moved on to other topics, but eventually, he'd said something that had taken Bickslow by surprise once again.

" _I had a really shitty childhood. Things got a lot better when I was taken to the orphanage. I met Midnight, and Bright Eyes came around a little while later."_

" _I didn't know you were adopted."_

" _I wasn't." Cobra smirked when Bickslow tried to apologize. "Don't worry about it. But I'm pretty sure it's all the years I spent there, and the time before that… It made me not trust anyone."_

" _You trust Cosplayer and Midnight, though."_

" _They helped me. We took care of each other, really. Outside of them, it takes a lot for me to be comfortable around someone."_

Cobra had told him before they'd even started dating that he needed time to be comfortable opening up to a person. Sure, Bickslow had eventually asked Cobra out about a month after that night, and he'd accepted. They'd been so happy together. They had some ups and downs, but it was always something minor.

How easily he'd forgotten that conversation in the heat of the moment though. He'd been ten kinds of pissed that Cobra never talked to him, never told him things. That he was always saying it wasn't important or that Bickslow didn't need to know. After only a year, he'd forgotten that one conversation that was so fucking important.

" _Bix, sometimes I feel like I can tell you anything," Cobra whispered. He watched his breath fog in front of him, and rubbed his gloved hands together to retain the heat. They walked side by side along a path on campus with only the sound of their feet crunching over freshly fallen snow. He smiled when Bickslow laced their fingers together. "I wanna be able to tell you everything about me one day."_

" _So tell me now."_

_Cobra shook his head, staring down at the ground. "One day," he said. "Can't go dropping all my baggage on you at once, right?"_

_Bickslow laughed and tightened his grip. "You're not gonna scare me away, Cobra. But alright. You tell me about yourself whenever you want. Even if it's just bits and pieces."_

" _Kinda like a puzzle, I guess."_

Just before the new year began, Cobra had tried opening up to him a little bit. It hadn't worked, he'd been too tense and had ended up saying he needed to head back to his dorm to be alone for a bit. Bickslow didn't hear from him for nearly a week after that, but when he did come back around he seemed better. Happier.

' _God, I'm so fucking stupid!'_  Cobra did try every once in a while to open up. Bickslow took it all for granted, because he hadn't done it on Bickslow's schedule.

"But he's trustin' you," Memaw said, drawing his attention back to her. "Even though he doesn't trust a lot of people, he trusts you not to break his heart."

"But what if I choose Erik over Laxus and it doesn't work out? Laxus will be pissed at me… Even if I go back and say we could be friends again, he might not want to be my friend anymore."

"Then I'd say that Laxus boy needs a good smack upside his head. Sometimes you've gotta do what's right for a relationship, Bickslow. And sometimes, that means puttin' the one you love before everyone else. Not all the time. You can't lose who you are or forget about what  _you_  need, but you gotta pick your battles."

That made a lot of sense. She was right about Laxus though. Sometimes he did need to get a smack in the head. They didn't always see eye to eye on things, and it had gotten pretty awkward when they were still roommates in the dorms, because he'd started dating Cobra. Bickslow had just ignored it though. He didn't like arguing with people, especially not his friends.

Especially not his boyfriend.

"I guess so," he muttered. "I guess… I have to decide who I wanna fight for."

"Exactly." Bickslow closed his eyes and Memaw kept running her fingers through his hair, smiling down at him all the while.

She wanted to mention that he'd never had this sort of reaction to any girl he'd dated in the past. Bickslow had told her a few times that he loved one girl or another, but it was never like this. He'd never come home crying because of some girl. He'd never gotten so upset in a relationship. Some people might have said that it wasn't a good thing, for him to come crying to her like this over his boyfriend. They might have said it was better for him to cut his losses and move on if things weren't going well. But she saw it for what it was.

Her grandson really did love Erik. He cared so much more about this relationship than any others he'd had before.

But Memaw didn't want to sway his opinion on the matter, and she didn't want to force her own way of thinking onto him. It was different with his grandfather, since they'd already had a family together, but the emotions were still the same. Bickslow was hurting over having to choose, and she was sure that Erik was hurting just as much while he waited to find out whether or not Bickslow thought enough of their relationship to keep him in his life.

He had to decide if he wanted a future with Erik, or if he just wanted to cut his losses and keep his friendship. And while Memaw didn't know much about this Laxus person, she still believed that Erik was the better choice overall. She'd never seen Bickslow so happy in all his life. All she could hope was that he would make the right choice, the one that would make him happiest. She wouldn't interfere, that was for sure.

After a few minutes, Bickslow opened his eyes and looked up at her. "Did Pop-Pop ever believe you about Jackson?"

Her smile stayed in place. "You know, I never found out," she said. "We mighta talked about a great many things, me and Pop-Pop, but we never talked about Jackson after that day."

"He never told you?"

"No," she laughed. "Pop-Pop kept that one between himself and the Lord."


	6. Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a direct sequel to the Halloween chapter. There are two more direct continuations after this. Since the original chapter that I'd plotted out just kept getting longer and longer, I decided to just split it up as best as I possibly could with the prompts available. So… if things don't fit the prompt perfectly… well, I tried.

_Erik is 20. Bickslow is 22._

* * *

It was already late at night - more like Tuesday morning - that found Cobra and Lucy sitting in the library together. He hadn't seen Bickslow since Halloween. That had been Thursday. But Cobra refused to tell anyone about it. He hadn't told Lucy or Midnight about the fight he and Bickslow had had, or the fact that he'd walked out and Cobra hadn't heard from him at all since then.

It wasn't anyone else's business.

"Is it making sense yet?" he asked, turning toward her.

Lucy frowned down at her  _Introduction to Biology_  book. "I mean, the  _words_  make sense, but… Cells. They're stupid."

"They're also the reason you're fucking living," he chuckled. He pushed the home button on his phone, sitting off to the side of his book, and checked the time. Nearly six in the morning. They'd been at this shit for an hour already, and Lucy was no closer to getting it. She was smart, but for some reason science just went right over her pretty little blonde head.

"Everything alright?" Lucy asked. "You keep looking at your phone."

"Yeah, just keeping an eye on the time." She said her quiz was at eight in the morning, so she really didn't have too much more time to get this shit down. If only he wasn't so damn distracted by wondering what was going on with Bickslow. Or if he'd ever see his boyfriend again. They got back to work, and only a few minutes later, a soft clearing throat drew their attention away from the textbooks in front of them.

Freed stood on the other side of the table, a messenger bag on his shoulder. His hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. His usual jeans and dress shirt had been replaced with sweatpants and a faded tee. He looked exhausted, probably from pulling an all-nighter. "May I have a seat?" he asked. "I'll be quick."

Just as Cobra was about to say  _hell no_ , Lucy smiled and said, "Sure, Freed. Everything alright? You look tired."

"Ah," he chuckled, sitting across from them. "I've been up all night, trying to finish a research paper. The only way to get the materials I needed was to come to the Special Collections in the library."

"Wow, Special Collections?" Lucy asked, wide-eyed. "What were you doing?"

"Staring at cuneiform tablets and Mesopotamian scrolls with gloves on." He glanced at Cobra and found an expected glare being sent his way. "But I came for a reason…" He turned back to Lucy. "I'm very sorry that I wasn't able to stop Laxus from acting that way at the party. I tried, but you know he doesn't like to listen sometimes."

"It's okay," she said, smiling softly. "I feel bad that I spilled my beer on him though. That really was an accident."

"He deserved everything he got that night," Cobra muttered, drawing Freed's attention to him.

"Well, his nose is broken," Freed said. "But… Cobra, I was…" He paused, seeming to search for the words to express himself. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head before meeting Cobra's gaze. "No one has heard from Bickslow lately. He didn't show up to our class yesterday. Have you… have you seen him?"

"Not since the party." He may have sounded calm, but Cobra was anything but relaxed. He'd been under the impression that Bickslow had simply gone to stay with Laxus or Freed while he'd been away. But if that wasn't the case, and he wasn't showing up to his classes either, then Cobra hadn't a fucking clue what could have happened to him.

"How come?" Lucy asked, frowning at the slight tremble in Cobra's shoulders.

"We had a fight."

"You what?" Her hand rested on his shoulder just as his gaze fell to the table.

"It was about Laxus," he said. "That's between me and him though. He needed some space to do whatever he had to do-" Because Cobra had given him that ultimatum and had driven his ass away with his idiocy. "-so I haven't bothered him." Even though it had been eating him up inside this whole time. Because he'd hoped that Bickslow would care for him enough to just agree that Laxus was a piece of shit, and ditch the blond. But he'd been dead fucking wrong.

Instead, Bickslow walked away from him and disappeared completely.

"He hasn't been back to the apartment at all?" Freed asked.

"No." When Cobra thought about that night, he found his heart racing. Maybe he'd scared Bickslow away completely. What if he went back home to find all of his shit packed up and set out on the doorstep with the fucking locks changed? Worse yet, what if Bickslow still hadn't come back?

They'd both been pretty drunk that night. Sure, Cobra could have handled the situation better, and Bickslow probably would have too if they hadn't been drunk.  _'But he left… He drove away…'_ Fuck, what if Bickslow had gotten into an accident somewhere after leaving? It was entirely possible that he was too drunk to drive, and too upset to think about the fact that he shouldn't be driving. What if he'd gotten into an accident and he was stuck in a hospital with no memory whatsoever, or in a coma, and no one knew that he had a boyfriend waiting for him to come back? It would be all Cobra's fault. He drove Bickslow away that night with his stupid fucking demands.

"And he's not picking up his phone?" Lucy asked Freed, who shook his head in response.

"His phone is turned off, and goes right to voicemail. He's not answering messages online. Not even emails."

Cobra bit his lip for a moment, thinking over what Freed had said. No one had heard from him since the party. He knew Bickslow had taken his truck that night, because when he woke up the next afternoon, it wasn't in his parking space. He was gone. Missing. Cobra checked his notifications on his phone, but there was nothing there. Not that he'd expected anything.

"And there's no one else you can think of that might know where he is?" Lucy asked.

"I'm afraid not," Freed said. "I checked with Laxus, but he said the same thing… among other things…"

"I'm sure it was something about me probably murdering Bix or something fucking stupid," Cobra muttered.

"Something to that effect, yes," Freed sighed. "I also checked with Gajeel and Macbeth, just to be on the safe side. Macbeth told me that I could find you here with Lucy, so…"

Cobra glared down at his phone then went to his contacts and selected Bickslow's photo. He put the phone to his ear and almost instantly, heard his boyfriend's ridiculous voicemail message of,  _"Hey baby, I know you were calling to tell me how lucky of a lady I am, but leave a message so I can hear it anyway."_

He ended the call then stared at the screen. There had to be something they could do. Because he was really starting to worry. And worrying wasn't a good thing for him at all.

Then an idea struck, and he wasn't sure if he should really go through with it. He scrolled down through his contacts and his thumb hovered over the name that Bickslow had put into his phone. He'd said it was a just in case kind of thing. Just in case he was hospitalized and Cobra needed to let her know what had happened. But this wasn't really an emergency.

Unless he considered the fact that his boyfriend had been missing for nearly five days an emergency. His thumb hit the call button. It was definitely an emergency. He put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring again and again, his leg jumping beneath the table in nervousness. It was a little after six in the morning by then, so he hoped that he wasn't being rude by calling too early. She was probably up at this time anyway, but still.

It rang and rang and rang, and then he was left questioning whether or not she even had an answering machine. Just as he was about to hang up and call it a failure, the phone was answered.

" _Good morning,"_  came the cheery, far too cheery, voice of Bickslow's grandmother through the line.

"Hey, um…" Cobra sat up a little straighter. "Fuck, he never told me your name…" Shit, he was supposed to watch his language! "Uh… M-Memaw?" Hopefully that was the right thing to call her.

Lucy blinked in surprise and stared at Cobra along with Freed.

" _... Is this Erik?"_

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat. "It's, uh… It's Erik."

" _How are you doin', dear?"_  Fuck, he could hear her smiling through the phone.

Cobra let out a heavy sigh, melting back into his chair. "Not great. I, uh…" He really didn't know how to talk to her still. Sure, when he'd visited her on Bickslow's birthday, things had been relatively casual after she found out they were dating. But that was different. Now he was on the phone with her. "Well, I'll just cut straight to the point, since it's early. Bickslow and I had a fight and he left, and no one's seen him since Thursday night. And his phone is off, so Freed can't even call him to make sure he's okay, and… Um… So, did…" Goddamnit, Lucy and Freed were staring at him. "Did he go back home?"

" _He did. Bickslow said he needed some time to think about things, and asked if he could stay. O' course, I said he didn't even need to ask."_

And there was the relief he'd needed. The tension that had coiled itself around his heart eased. "So, he's there… Thank God."

" _Yes, he's out on the ranch right now though, if you wanted to talk to him. Just headed out. One of my wranglers sprained his ankle in the football game on Friday night, so he's stuck up in the hospital."_

"O-Oh, no… I, uh… I don't need to talk to him. Freed was asking if I'd seen him, and when no one knew where to look, I just figured… He probably went to visit you."

" _Seems like you know my grandson pretty well,"_ she laughed.

"... Yeah…" There was a long pause on the line. He didn't know what to say now that he'd found out Bickslow was with his grandmother, and apparently helping her out on the ranch. Was he just supposed to thank her for telling him, say goodbye and hang up? Maybe talk to her for another minute, just to be polite?

" _You know, I could probably use another set o' hands around here. If you ain't busy with school…"_

"Oh, uh… I don't know anything about horses though." Plus, it probably wouldn't be a good idea for him to show up down there if Bickslow was trying to keep his distance.

" _Didn't you tell me you're a scientist?"_  He still thought it was kind of adorable how she said  _sahntist_  instead of  _scientist_.

"Yeah. I mean…" Manners, he needed to remember to use his fucking manners. "Yes, ma'am."

Lucy's jaw dropped.

" _Well, I've got some baking to do for our annual church bake sale tomorrow. Bickslow would have been helpin' me if he wasn't out helpin' the boys."_

Cobra frowned for a moment, staring down at the table. He'd never really cooked anything more complicated than a damn grilled cheese. "You want me to…"

" _If you're not too busy, you could come on down and help me."_

"I don't know if that's a good idea…" It was probably a horrible, horrible idea. Maybe she just didn't know about what had happened between them, so she wasn't aware of just why Bickslow had gone home. She didn't know that her grandson was trying to stay the hell away from his stupid, selfish boyfriend and the argument they'd gotten into.

" _Well, between you and me, I think my grandson misses you. He told me about what happened with you and that Laxus boy."_

"Oh…" Or maybe Bickslow had told her. Did that mean she knew everything that had happened? Did he tell her about the argument as well? About how fucking stupid Cobra was? Maybe she sided with Bickslow on the whole thing. But if that was the case, then she wouldn't have invited him over there to help her bake. "He did?"

" _He did. Now, my grandson is a wonderful boy, bless his heart, but if brains were leather he'd hardly have enough to saddle a junebug."_

Cobra couldn't help but laugh at that. There she went with the metaphors again.

" _Why don't you come on down? Only if it doesn't interfere with your schoolin'."_

He was about to say no, that it was a bad idea and that Bickslow obviously needed his space, but then he found himself mulling it over. He liked Bickslow's grandmother. She was sweet and kind, and so damn welcoming. When they'd visited on Bickslow's birthday, she'd welcomed him with open arms. She made him feel like he was just another part of the family, like he wasn't some outsider intruding in her home. And she sounded so fucking hopeful. Like she really did want him around. "Do you… It'd be alright?"

" _It'll be just fine."_

Cobra bit his lip, his frown deepening. He really had no business going down there. Bickslow needed his space. He'd be back eventually and they would sort things out then. He wasn't going to force things.

"Okay."

He was a fucking moron. Bickslow was going to see him there and kick his ass out in a fucking second. But he wanted to do this. He wanted to see her and hang out with her, his classes for the day be damned. She was actually pretty cool for a little old lady.

Besides, maybe he could finally get an answer on where they stood. He'd gotten boxes over the weekend to prepare for the moment that Bickslow told him to move out because they were done. It was inevitable, and he knew that. He just needed his boyfriend to say the words, and then he'd be on his way. "I'll be there in a couple hours. Thank you, um…"

" _You can call me Memaw, Erik."_

"Thank you, Memaw," he said with a small smile. "I'll see you soon." Once he was off the phone, he looked up to see Lucy and Freed were still staring at him with matching wide-eyed, slack-jawed expressions. He scowled at the pair of them. "What?"

"What the hell was all that?" Lucy asked.

"He went home to see his grandmother," Cobra replied. "He's been there this whole time."

Freed nodded and stood to take his leave. "Thank you for finding him, Cobra." He left the two of them, still mystified by the way Cobra had spoken on the phone. It was the first time he'd ever seen the man use such a subdued, respectful voice. Then again, Freed also knew that Bickslow had come from the south, and he could only assume that his grandmother was a tad more old-fashioned than most.

Cobra shoved his phone into his pocket and started closing his own books as quickly as possible, then chanced a quick glance at Lucy's smirking face. "So, I've gotta… She invited me over," he said. "It's a long drive, so I've gotta get going."

"Mmkay."

"Sorry for bailing on you like this."

Lucy waved him off and scoffed. "I'm a big girl, Erik. I can study on my own."

"You're sure? I might be able to find someone to-"

"Don't worry about it," she giggled. "You go. Maybe it'll help you patch things up with Bickslow."

He bit his lip, clearly nervous over the prospect of even fucking looking at Bickslow again. He really did want to fix things, though. He wanted them to be okay. And he really didn't want to fucking move out of their apartment. It wasn't that he wouldn't have anywhere to go, since he knew he could crash with Midnight until student housing opened up with a vacancy in the dorms, but he didn't want to lose what he had with Bickslow.

"I'll make it up to you, Bright Eyes," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a quick hug.

"No need," she laughed, hugging him back. "Watching you pull out the  _thank yous_  and  _yes ma'ams_  was more than enough."

He pulled back with a scowl that wasn't nearly as intense as it would have been if she was anyone else. "Fuck you, asshole. She's a little old southern lady. Last thing I need is her taking a switch to my ass or some shit." She just laughed harder, and all he could do was roll his eye at her ridiculousness. "Good luck on your quiz."

Lucy grinned and kissed his scarred cheek before he could get out of his seat, then watched as he wiped off her imaginary cooties while walking away with his bag slung over his shoulder. All she could hope was that things would work out for them. Bickslow was really good for her pseudo-brother. He made Erik happier, more open to laughing than even Lucy or Macbeth could have managed.

Once he was outside the library, Cobra looked down at his phone and grimaced. The sun was just barely cresting the horizon, sending golden rays across the pale blue sky. He went to his contacts and clicked on Midnight's picture, wincing while walking toward the sidewalk and out to the main road. He needed to get to his apartment before he could go anywhere. Thankfully, it wasn't too far of a walk. It was just too bad he'd forgotten his skateboard at home when he'd left.

" _Mmwut?"_

Cobra chuckled and shook his head while pressing the button for the crosswalk. The traffic light turned red and he began to cross the wide street. "Midnight, I need you to wake up a bit."

" _No… why?"_

"Because I need the car for the day. I'm stopping at my apartment first to get some shit, then I'll be over."

" _... furshin… pozz…"_

And that was when Cobra knew for a fact that Midnight was far too dead to the world to have an actual conversation. Lucy probably wouldn't have even gotten him to wake up, even though they were finally a fucking couple. "I'll send you a text to let you know why the car's gone. Set your alarm so you can take the bus to your class later."

His only response was snoring, so Cobra disconnected the call and sent Midnight a text to reiterate what he'd tried to say on the phone. And then he figured it was probably a good idea to call Lucy. She was better at dealing with changes in Midnight's schedule than he was, after all. Something about his email and calendar being linked, and how she could set notifications on his phone from his calendar on her computer, since it automatically updated.

Those two had been acting like a married couple for fucking years, with Lucy keeping Midnight's head above water when he started slacking. Cobra kind of envied them. They'd only been dating for four months, but their relationship was solid. There were no secrets between them, but that was because they'd been in each other's lives as best friends since they were five.

It wasn't a thing like what he had with Bickslow. Except Cobra knew that all the secrets in their own relationship were his fault. And the problems they had that no one knew about, were almost always his own fault too. He finally made it to his apartment and went inside to find everything just as he'd left it. It was lonely without Bickslow there. Part of him hoped that they would work things out, and he'd finally come home, but now there was another part of Cobra that wondered if it was even worth it.

He was the reason they had issues making their relationship work. What if it was for the best that they just called it all off and went their separate ways? Bickslow would probably be happier that way. He'd probably go back to dating women, like he'd done up until Cobra came into his life. Bickslow would be happier without him around, making everything so fucking difficult.

Cobra shook his head and set his bag on the floor, then made his way to the bathroom and took two of his pills. It was time for it anyway. Then he called Lucy.

" _Miss me already?"_ she laughed as soon as she answered.

"Set a notification for Midnight to get the bus," he said, staring at himself in the mirror. God, he looked fucking pathetic.

" _Already done. I figured he wouldn't be too coherent."_

"Thanks, Bright Eyes…"

" _Erik?"_ He hummed a response. He knew that tone in her voice. _"What's wrong?"_

"Lucy… Tell me I'm not making a mistake going down there," he said softly.

" _You're not making a mistake going down there."_

"Is Bix better off without me?" She might not have known about the fight before that morning, but knowing that it was about Laxus helped, he was sure. She didn't know half of what happened with him and Bickslow, no one did. He wanted to keep it that way. The last thing he wanted was for someone to say that they shouldn't be together. His brain told him that enough already.

" _Why would you ask that?"_

"Because I'm a shitty boyfriend, and he hates me…"

" _Erik, have you been taking your pills?"_

"I just took some. I'll take the rest in a few minutes." He grabbed the little pill container that held his weekly allotment of medication and carried it out to the living room. He wasn't sure what made him decide to go into the bedroom and pack a change of clothes, but he wasn't going to question it. He was going to be baking with Memaw, so maybe he'd need it if his clothes got dirty.

" _Where's this coming from?"_

He figured it was a good idea to tell her what the hell had actually happened while he moved around the apartment, gathering what he thought he might need. It wasn't like he was planning on being gone for more than a day, but Cobra knew from experience that it was best to plan for being gone longer than expected. Except, usually when that happened, he went off his meds and just fucking disappeared for a bit and then ended up baker acted for doing something fucking stupid… He didn't want to do that. It hadn't happened in a little over a year - since a few months before meeting Bickslow - and he didn't want to get put in a psych ward again.

" _So you told him to choose between you and Laxus, and he just left?"_

"Yeah."

" _And now you're thinking that you don't deserve him, and he'd be better off without you?"_

"Pretty fucking much," he said, staring down at his boots.

" _Please let me kick his ass for you."_

He found himself chuckling while making sure he had the textbooks he needed for the rest of the week and his laptop. "No, you don't need to kick his ass. This is my fault."

" _Not everything is your fault, Erik,"_  she said.  _"You know you can't always blame yourself for things."_

He looked around the apartment one more time, double checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Then he saw Bickslow's messenger bag sitting in the corner by their shared desk where he'd left it the week before. Maybe there was something in there that he needed for his classes. Cobra went and picked it up, then decided to add Bickslow's laptop to it as well, and his spare phone charger, and the random USB stick that was sitting on the desk.

" _But you asked me if he was better off without you. I don't really know. I don't think he is, but I love you to pieces. I'm biased."_

"Yeah, you are." Cobra grabbed his own messenger bag, then the small bag with his necessities - spare clothes, phone charger, medication - and walked out the door to head to Midnight's apartment down the block.

" _I don't think it's a mistake for you to go down there, though. He should have given you some sort of answer before leaving like that. More than just 'Fuck this'. Who does that?"_

"Bickslow when he's drunk, I guess."

" _And he should know by now that you'll worry more than most people. What if leaving like that made you go off your meds?"_

He frowned at that. "I wouldn't have."

" _You've done it for less, Erik,"_ she said, her voice gentle. He knew she wasn't trying to upset him though.  _"He should have taken into consideration what's best for you too."_

"He doesn't know about that…"

" _... What?"_

He winced. "Yeah… I… kinda haven't really told him about that."

" _You haven't told him what? That you need medication?"_

"No, he knows I take it. Just not why."

" _What the hell, Erik?!"_

"What?" he asked, scowling at the ground. "How am I supposed to just bring up in casual conversation, 'Oh, by the way, I know we've been together for a long ass time already, but I'm a fucking psychopath'?"

" _You're not a psychopath."_

"No, I'm just schizophrenic and I've got stupid fucking PTSD so I'm either depressed or anxious or both at the same fucking time, and the meds hardly do anything to help with that because I'd rather not hear a potted plant telling me that my fly is down." He had priorities. And his top priority was not hearing voices that weren't there, or seeing things that he shouldn't be seeing, or having his thoughts getting so jumbled up that he couldn't even fucking communicate with another human being. "He'd leave me so fucking fast if he found out now…"

" _Or maybe he'd surprise you and be super supportive. You know Bickslow better than I do, but he just doesn't seem like the type of guy who would be so shallow that he'd ditch you over something you have no control over."_

A small smile lifted his lips while he rounded the corner and continued on his way to Midnight's. This was why he'd called Lucy, why he'd known he could talk to her about it. She'd gotten off easy with the whole damaged psyche thing from her childhood. Some lingering night terrors and an occasional panic attack. But she dealt with Midnight's insomnia as a child and then his constant sleeping as an adult without batting an eye. She took Cobra's own grab-bag of mental illnesses and handled it with care for as long as they'd known each other. She never pushed, but she was always reminding him that not everyone was out to get him. That he could trust people.

Maybe he just needed to put a little more trust in Bickslow.

" _After you guys sort this clusterfuck out, you really do need to tell him what's going on with you, okay?"_

"I will," he said. And he really was going to do it this time. No more putting it off. Bickslow needed to know at least a little more about him. He'd accused Cobra of never opening up to him, and this was a prime fucking example of just what he'd failed to do. Sure, Bickslow wasn't  _entitled_  to know about all of Cobra's skeletons, but if they were going to have a real, solid relationship, then the secrets needed to go. Especially one as important as why he needed to take his medication every day. "Am I a pussy for admitting that I'm scared of what he'll say?"

" _Not at all,"_ she laughed.  _"But if he has questions that you can't or don't want to answer, you could always have him ask me or Macbeth. You know we won't mind."_

"I know," he sighed. Their shared car finally came into view and he fished his keys out of his back pocket, then pressed the button on the fob to open the trunk.

" _You're at the car?"_

"Yeah."

" _Did you take the rest of your pills like you said, or did you forget because we were on the phone?"_

Cobra set everything down in the trunk, then pursed his lips. He really couldn't remember, so he checked his pill organizer and found that three pills were still in the Tuesday section. "Oh, fuck you, Bright Eyes."

" _You're welcome,"_  she giggled.  _"Alright, take your pills and get on the road. And don't forget to get yourself something to eat soon, or you'll start feeling drowsy. And drive safely, alright? Oh, and-"_

"Okay,  _Mother_! Jesus fucking Christ!" he laughed, popping the three pills into his mouth and swallowing. After years of doing it, he didn't even need a drink anymore to get them down. "I'll stop and get a McGriddle or some shit before I get on the highway."

" _And you'll be fine driving? You hardly ever do it, and I doubt you really should since you haven't gotten a new license after losing your eye."_

While her worrying on that front was kind of warranted, Cobra still shrugged her off. He'd be careful. He already knew, for the most part, how to get to Memaw's house. It was just a straight shot down the highway until he got to Exit 2. He'd need to pull off the road and check his phone once he got to the rural part of the trip.

"I'll be fine driving." Cobra closed the trunk and got in the car. "I'm gonna go now. I'll turn on bluetooth in case someone calls, before you fucking ask, so I won't be holding my damn phone."

" _Good. And-"_

"And I won't forget to text you when I get to her house, so you know I made it safe and sound." God, she fucking worried so much. "Focus on studying for that quiz. I'll be fine."

" _If you say so… I love you, Erik. You know that, right?"_

"Yeah, I know," he said, smiling down at the center of the steering wheel. "And I love you too, Lucy. Go get all studious and shit. I've got some baking with Memaw to get to."

" _Oh my god, that sounds too adorable for words."_

"This conversation is fucking done." With that, he hung up on her and turned on the car. Within minutes, he was heading down the road, getting accustomed to driving again since he'd lost his eye. He might have clipped the curb with the front tire a little bit while pulling around the drive thru for his food, but that wasn't too bad. At least he didn't run anyone over.

By the time he was on the highway, heading south, Cobra was a little more comfortable driving. Eating helped to distract him from the stress. And the shitty fast food coffee. Eventually, he was left with his thoughts concerning Bickslow and the open road in front of him. He couldn't let that distract him, so he decided that whatever music Midnight had been listening to when he'd last been in the car would have to suffice.

He nearly had a goddamn heart attack when  _Carmina Burana_ started blaring through the speakers. He was officially distracted from his shitty situation, far more focused on not swerving into another lane, turning down the goddamn volume, and screaming about his slumbering best friend being a stupid, idiotic asshat at the top of his lungs.

* * *

Cobra parked in the open space beside Bickslow's truck in the driveway and got out of the car. He took Bickslow's messenger bag out of the trunk, leaving his own things there just in case he wasn't going to be here for very long, then made his way down the path toward the house. Cursing Midnight's existence for a good portion of the trip helped to keep him relaxed. It kept his mind off of the fact that he would be spending time with Bickslow's grandmother, and that he'd be seeing his boyfriend for the first time in nearly a week.

He knocked on the door and waited. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long. Even better was the fact that Memaw answered the door, smiling up at him with her crinkled green eyes and slightly stained dentures and plum lips. He didn't know what he would have done if it had been Bickslow at the door. Well, he sure as hell wouldn't have been hugged like Memaw was doing just before ushering him inside.

"It's gonna get messy," she said. "You should leave those shoes on."

He wiped his boots on the mat, then made his way inside. At least they weren't caked in dirt. "I brought Bickslow's bag with his laptop," he said, holding it up to show her. "I didn't know if he had everything he needed for his classes, so…"

"That was very thoughtful of you, Erik," she said, smiling over her shoulder. "You can just leave it in the den over there." He nodded and took the bag into the room on the left, set it down on the couch, then turned and made his way to the kitchen. In an instant, he was being bombarded by a mason jar full of painfully sweet tea, and being forced to sit down at the table. She might not have been aggressive about it, and he knew that he could lift her over his head and throw her through a window if need be, but the woman had this presence about her. Something in her voice made his back straighten and his feet move, whether he wanted to or not.

He hated that the tea was so delicious. Part of him wondered if it was pumped full of some addictive substance, because he found himself getting a second glass within minutes. Luckily, she seemed more than happy to oblige his thirst. And his need to use the bathroom, since he'd been driving for two hours with a large cup of coffee to keep him going.

Once he was settled and taking a sip of his tea, he found her smiling at him. "This tea really is good," he said.

"Oh, it's nothin' special. You just make about twelve cups of tea and put two cups of sugar in it when it's hot, then pop in some ice to cool it down in your cup."

This was new. He wasn't really accustomed to making small talk with anyone. Ever. But it felt so easy to do it with her. Maybe it was because she was old. She'd mastered the art of bearable small talk.

"Now, I hope you don't mind me askin'," she said while reaching across the table to rest her hand on his. "But what happened to your eye, Erik?"

He chuckled, lifting his other hand to brush his fingers across the scar. "I was in the lab and got distracted," he said. "Since I didn't make a habit of wearing goggles, like I should have, when the beaker broke, I got glass in my eye. They couldn't save it."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," she said. "But at least the Lord protected you."

He just nodded at that. She knew he was an atheist, and that Bickslow was agnostic, but it wasn't like he was going to stop her from spouting her religious affirmations. It wasn't hurting anyone, least of all him.

"I do want to apologize for Bickslow's lack of manners, though," she said, taking a sip of her tea.

"What do you mean?"

"That boy knows better than to disappear without tellin' someone where he's goin'. He had no right makin' his friends worry the way he did. Least of all, you. Fight or not, he should've told you so you wouldn't worry."

Cobra just shrugged and looked down at where he was slowly spinning his glass between his hands. "Well, considering how we left things, it's not surprising he didn't tell me."

"It's the principle of the thing." Memaw patted his hand while she stood and made her way toward the counter. "He's gonna get a nice talkin' to about it later on. But enough about that. When you're ready, we'll get started."

He blinked in surprise, then looked down at her glass to see that it was mostly full. He could only assume that meant he didn't need to finish his own drink before going to help her bake, so he made his way into the kitchen to find her holding an apron out to him with a smile on her face. And even though he felt a little stupid, Cobra bent down and allowed her to put the looped fabric over his head, then turned when she pushed on his shoulders so she could tie it in the back.

"Oh dear," Memaw laughed, staring down at the excess strings hanging down to his knees. "Ain't you a precious little stickbug…" She had him turn to face her again, then cross the strings behind him and pulled them to the front to tie them. And then the same thing happened. "Erik, you need to eat!"

He didn't even care that she turned him around a third time just to finally tie the apron behind him. "I've always been skinny," he said.

"Skin and bones, maybe. I'm gonna have to fatten you up!"

"Please don't," he chuckled. "I doubt I'd look as good as Bix does with muscles like his." When she turned him one more time so he was facing her, again, he found himself laughing as she pinched his side through his shirt.

"There's no meat on those bones. You're takin' leftovers home."

"Yes, ma'am. And if you think I'm bad, you should see my friend Macbeth. He makes those starving kids in third world countries look well-fed."

"Don't make me send extras for that poor boy, now," she said with a playful wink.

"Nah, he just doesn't put on weight. He eats constantly, but his body burns through it too quickly." He followed her over to one the island only to find half of it covered with flour and the other half full of ingredients. "Okay, I'm scared already," he chuckled.

"We'll start on pie crusts," she said. "You ever handled lard before?"

"Nope."

"Well roll up those sleeves, Erik," she laughed. "We're jumpin' right into it."

He was actually pretty excited to do this, he realized when she handed him an old, weathered recipe card with finely written script. He'd never had a chance to really learn how to cook, but it didn't look too hard. And considering Memaw was willing to teach him, he was going to be the best student she could have ever hoped for.

* * *

Cobra was sure that Memaw was a fucking culinary legend by the time they'd finished the first two pecan pies. He'd learned how to shell fresh pecans, the proper dark corn syrup to brown sugar ratio, and how to mix a pie crust with nothing more than a bowl and a wooden spoon. Part of him wondered why she didn't own an electric mixer. It would have made her life much simpler.

When he'd asked her, the answer had been something that he was positive only an eighty-year-old woman could say without sounding stupid. "Mixin' it by hand comes out in the taste. You can taste the hard work and love in every bite."

Oddly enough, he liked that answer. She was even patient with his desire to taste everything they made, as they were going. He'd learned the hard way that pie crust that hadn't been baked was actually fucking disgusting. Same with the pecan filling if the sugar wasn't in it yet.

"These pies are gonna be the best ones yet," she said while peeking through the oven window to the second batch of four pies. "This crust is risin' perfectly, Erik."

He smirked while measuring out the ingredients for another batch of pie filling. "That's all you," he said. "I just did the mixing."

"You rolled out these crusts though. They're perfect." She turned toward him, watching as he moved from one ingredient to the next without missing a beat, and without looking at the recipe card once to double check. They'd only been at this for an hour, but he already had it memorized. She could tell, just based on how easily he went through the motions of scraping off the excess brown sugar, then adding the salt and melted butter to the bowl.

"I just followed the directions," he said.

"I'll take over on that," she said once he'd gotten all the ingredients in. "Can you get some more pecans ready?"

Cobra nodded and moved to the other side of the counter so she could mix, and started shelling pecans rapidfire. Once she'd showed him how to boil them to soften the shells, then get the shells cracked, he'd taken to it quickly. Except then her nutcracker broke.

Luckily, Memaw knew another way to go about doing it, and since he was strong enough to get the job done, she'd showed him how to put two in his hand, then squeeze them together until the shells cracked. Since she didn't have another nutcracker, his job was to get more pecans ready whenever she asked for them. There was no way she'd be able to do it herself.

"You know, I never gave any of my children these recipes," she said.

"How come?"

"Well, Jessup and and Joseph - those are my twins - never wanted to learn a thing about cookin'. They married women who had their own family recipes and such. Arthur decided to become a Catholic priest, and he's over in Italy now. Thomas, Anders, and Bartholomew all decided they were too good for my cookin' a long time ago, and moved out to the city as soon as they were eighteen. Thomas is doin' fine with his music, and Anders sends a card every year from that island he's livin' on."

"What about Bartholomew?" Good fucking lord, she had a lot of children. He just couldn't picture a woman so small carrying a baby in her fucking body. Let alone seven over the course of however many years. Then again, that did explain why there were so many unused bedrooms in the house.

"He went to prison for armed robbery. That boy tried holdin' up the bank here in town, like no one knew what he looked like." She shook her head with a fond smile. "Didn't even wear a mask."

"That's… not the brightest idea," he snorted.

"No, he was a special one. He got outta jail and went right back in. Over and over again." She paused and glanced at the timer sitting in the middle of the counter. Ten more minutes on those pies. "Then Marianna… That's Bickslow's Mama."

"You never gave her the recipes either?" He paused in cracking shells to swipe the large pile off the counter and into a trash bag.

"Definitely not. She was a sweetheart, but that girl was toxic in the kitchen. I didn't want people gettin' food poisoning." Her smile widened when he laughed and shook his head. "Besides, she never moved out, so it wasn't like I needed to worry about Bickslow not gettin' to have my recipes one day."

"He never really talks about her," Cobra said softly. He never questioned it until right then though. Considering his own preferences in leaving things well enough alone, he never pushed to know more about Bickslow's mother. Right then, he was left wondering if Bickslow had ever wanted to tell him about his mother, but hadn't because he knew Cobra didn't have anything to say in response. He'd never had a mother, after all.

"Well, he took her passin' pretty hard," she sighed. "Young mother like her, things weren't always easy but she made it work. Marianna was determined to make sure Bickslow didn't grow up feelin' like he'd missed out on not havin' his Daddy around."

"How old was he when she…"

"Oh, he was… Hm, I'd say he was about ten when she got sick, so thirteen when she finally passed." Her gaze met his curious one, and she could see that he wanted to ask how Bickslow's mother had died, but held himself back. "Cancer. Took us all by surprise when we found out she was in remission after a year, only for her cervical cancer to spread. It was aggressive."

Cobra's head lowered back to his work while he thought about what she'd said. It was no wonder Bickslow never really talked about his mother, if she'd died like that. He'd had to watch her waste away in front of his eyes when he was so young. Cobra knew he was  _never_  going to bring her up in a conversation.

"It took Bickslow a long time to get back to himself after that. I don't think he smiled for two years. It took that one movie comin' out… Oh, what is it? He watches it all the time."

Cobra chuckled and shook his head. " _Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls_ ," he said.

"That's the one. When that Jim Carrey boy crawled outta that rhino's rump, Bickslow lost it. He was cryin' and laughin' and rollin' on the floor. I didn't even mind that he'd spilled popcorn everywhere. He was happy again."

Cobra grinned when he saw the misty-eyed look in her eyes. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"He still spills the popcorn on the floor when that scene comes on. Every time." She laughed and had to step away from the pie filling just so she didn't spill anything, and he couldn't help but join in her laughter.

* * *

Another two hours passed with Cobra and Memaw working together in the kitchen While waiting for a batch of pies to finish in the oven so they could be rotated with the final batch, he moved around with a wet cloth, cleaning up the mess that had been made. The floor was a mess from shells that had inadvertently fallen while he'd prepped more pecans. Flour had gotten everywhere when he'd been learning how to roll out the pie crusts, and Memaw had told him not to worry about cleaning it up right then, since he'd just be doing it all over again five minutes later.

While Cobra cleaned, she pulled off her apron and hung it on a hook, then took a seat at the table. She hadn't sat down for anything while they'd been working. She'd taken a break here and there to get a sip of tea, but aside from that she'd been going strong for hours. When he saw her hand lift to her forehead and rub small circles between her thin brows, Cobra frowned. "Everything alright?"

"Would you be a dear and grab my pills from that cabinet up there?" He looked toward the solid honey oak cabinet she waved toward, and opened it to find a single bottle of prescription pills. Cobra gave her the bottle, then grabbed another glass and filled it with water from the pitcher in the fridge for her.

She struggled to open the bottle though, and he could only stand there for another few seconds before placing his hand over her shaking ones. He sat in the chair next to her and opened the bottle, then read the instructions. Two pills fell into his hand with a practiced flick of his wrist.

While she took them, he closed the bottle and frowned at the label. He'd taken this before, when he was in high school and they were trying to sort out the right combination of medications for him. Why would she be taking a high dosage migraine medication?

"You're having migraines?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he looked into her eyes.

"They come and go," she said, smiling gently at him. "Just part of gettin' older."

He set the bottle on the table and looked back over the kitchen. There was still a good bit of cleaning to get done before they could get started on anything else. Memaw had already pulled out her recipe cards for what she was making for dinner, and she'd asked if he would be interested in helping her prepare it - of course, he'd agreed. Then they had several dozen batches of cookies to bake. Oatmeal raisin, snickerdoodles, white chocolate chip, and then no-bake cookies that he already knew he'd need her help to figure out how to not fuck up.

But he knew, if she was having migraines, she really needed to just rest for a bit. That medication would need some time to set in, and it wouldn't hurt for her to relax. She was no spring chicken. She needed to take it easy from time to time.

"Why don't you go and lay down?" he asked. "I can do this."

"No, I'll be fine," she said.

Now, Cobra really wasn't one for physical contact with people he didn't know all that well, but he still took her hands in his while looking into her eyes. "If those migraines are anything like what I had when I was taking this stuff, you really should lay down, Memaw. Shut the blinds and just relax for a little while."

"Erik, I couldn't possibly do that. Not with a guest here." He smirked at her wide-eyed expression. "Besides, we'll need to get started on dinner soon, and I won't just leave that to you when you've never done it before. That's too much work."

He still thought it was strange that Bickslow had grown up eating dinner in the afternoon. "Well, considering you've entrusted your secret recipes to me, I'd venture to say I'm not just any normal guest." He kept her hands held in his as he stood, then gently pulled her to her feet. "Don't worry about a thing. I came to help out, so I'll do just that."

"But dinner-"

"Dinner, too," he chuckled. "I'm a scientist, remember? I think I'll be just fine following the recipes and timing everything just right."

"I can't make you clean and everything else, Erik. That just wouldn't be right."

He shook his head and started leading her to the stairs, winding an arm around her thin, frail shoulders. Bickslow had given him a tour of the house, at her gentle reminder that it was polite, so he knew that all her bedroom and Bickslow's old room were both on the second floor. "How about this," he said while they started climbing, "You just relax for a little while and let the worst of that migraine go away, and in a little bit, if you're feeling up to it, then we'll get you right back into the kitchen so you can make sure I didn't fu-" Damn, he'd been doing so well in the not cursing department. "I mean, mess anything up."

At that, Memaw laughed and finally nodded her head. They were already halfway up the stairs anyway. "I'm assumin' you've got quite the mouth on you when you ain't here."

"I really do," he chuckled. "But Bix told me when we first came down that I needed to watch my language. I don't wanna get my mouth washed out with soap."

"Oh, he told you about that, did he?" She took the lead then, making her way toward her bedroom just to the right of the stairs.

"He did. Then he started telling me that he actually preferred when you used homemade soap instead of the store-bought stuff, because it tasted better." They went to the bed and he helped her sit down, remove her little canvas slip-on shoes, then tucked her in beneath the pale blue covers. He moved around the room and quickly closed all the drapes. It didn't really get rid of all the sunlight, but it was definitely a fair bit darker in her room. That had to count for something.

Without a word, he left and got her glass of water from downstairs, then brought it up to her and set it on the nightstand.

"If you need anything, you let me know, okay?" He considered leaving his phone with her so she could just call the house phone and he'd answer it, but that seemed like a bit much. She was just up the stairs. He'd be able to hear her if she called for him. It wasn't like he'd be using a mixer for anything, after all.

"I will, Erik, thank you," she said. He smiled down at her, and for the first time, she saw the gentle lift to his lips that Bickslow had told her about. The look in his eye that, from what she'd been told, was reserved for the people he cared about - his sister, his best friend, and Bickslow. He was rather handsome when he smiled like that. "You're a sweet boy."

"Only when someone deserves it," he replied. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but he gently kissed her wrinkled knuckles before leaving the room, mostly closing the door behind him.

He wasn't sure why she was getting migraines, but he really did hope that it wasn't anything serious. But Cobra didn't want to focus on those negative thoughts swirling around in his head. Instead, he made his way back to the kitchen and looked at the mess that still needed to be cleaned. The counters were first, then sweeping the floor. Then he could get started on making the dinner that Memaw had been planning for that day, and maybe he'd be able to start on some snickerdoodles. Those were slotted to be the first ones they made now that the pies were done.

The timer went off for the oven, and Cobra was brought back to the present. Well,  _now_  the pies were done. And it was time for him to get back to work.


	7. Pets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more continuation of this particular arc of their story after this chapter. It just kept growing every time I started working on a plotted scene. I'd think I had everything, and then I realized that it needed more substance, another scene, just a little more something. Somebody stop my madness!

_Erik is 20. Bickslow is 22._

* * *

It had been a long day for Bickslow. He'd forgotten how much work it took to take care of everything on the ranch. Luckily, he'd just been taking the place of a wrangler, so he'd already known what he was getting himself into. Sadly, though, the kid that had been working for his grandmother was apparently a goddamn slacker, and he'd make sure to find someone else to take that moron's place before he went back up to the city.

What kind of idiot didn't keep an eye on his horses' shoes? Or didn't notice that the two mares under his care were pregnant? Honestly.

Of course, when Bickslow had brought it up with Mason, the guy who was supposed to be keeping everyone in line and doing their jobs, he'd found out that he wasn't much better.

Bickslow might have been gone for a couple years, but he'd grown up with a lot of these horses. This place was his home. He wasn't some wet-behind-the-ears piece of shit who didn't know a thing about tacking a horse. A good portion of the repairs that had been made to the fences - which were looking a little run-down when he'd gone around the property the day before - were done by Bickslow's own two hands.

He was going to have to talk with Memaw about what was going on with the ranch, to see what she was planning on doing about the poor work ethic he'd seen.

But he could do that over dinner, and that was why he was walking back across the property toward the back of the house. Part of him wished that he and Cobra had waited to move into their apartment until the fall semester started, so he could have gotten this shit handled when he didn't have classes to worry about as well.

Just thinking about Cobra, though, was painful in that moment. He still didn't know what to do about this whole stupid argument that had happened between them. And he really wasn't ready to go back to Magnolia at all, to see Cobra, to fucking talk it all out.

But he couldn't avoid it forever, and he did still have classes that he needed to attend. His professors had been more than understanding when he'd emailed them all on Friday afternoon saying that he would be missing his classes this week, because he had to come home and help his grandmother with her horse ranch. He may have exaggerated just a little bit by saying she was sick with the flu, but he wasn't telling that to anyone. If there really was a Hell, he was definitely going. there for lying about his Memaw being sick.

The shade from the back porch was a welcome, soothing balm on his already tanned skin. There was no point in putting on some long-sleeved shirt to protect himself while working with the horses. Instead, he'd gone with a comfortable white tank top (the tan lines were going to be a bitch to deal with come spring, but whatever), his well broken in jeans that were stained with mud from years of working outside, and his favorite work boots.

Memaw would have killed him for tracking dirt into her pristine kitchen, so he stopped at the back door and sat on the swinging bench to take off his boots. He could already smell the baking pies and cookies from the nearby open window, and his stomach growled.

His hunger was made even worse when he took another breath that was filled with meatloaf, potatoes, greens, and cornbread.

' _This is why I love coming home. I never eat like this up north.'_

A sudden pang in his heart had him wincing. He'd eating like this up north once. With Cobra. That morning that they'd had dinner for breakfast, butt naked on their couch, came crashing through his head and planted itself right behind his closed eyes.

He loved Cobra, and he didn't want to lose him, but the last thing Bickslow wanted to do was think about him. Not about the happy times they'd had together. Not about how adorable he was while fucked up on vicodin, how cuddly he became and how easily he fell asleep in Bickslow's arms. He didn't want to think about sleeping with Cobra by his side, or watching him dance in just a towel to music only he could hear while getting dressed for the morning.

Then again, he didn't want to think about the shitty times with Cobra either. Not their argument about Laxus, or how his boyfriend didn't open up to him all that often. Not how Cobra always seemed to think the worst, or that Bickslow sometimes questioned if Cobra really trusted him. He definitely didn't want to think about the time that Cobra had woken up from a nightmare the first time they'd slept in the same bed, and punched him right in the gut while cursing at him.

All Bickslow wanted to do was go inside and spend some time with his Memaw, eat her delicious food, and get a shower. And then maybe he'd call up Freed and see what he'd missed in their shared class the day before.  _'And I should probably tell him where I'm at…'_

He was  _not_  going to call Cobra. This wasn't something they could do over the phone. They needed to talk in person. But Bickslow couldn't talk to him until he knew what the hell he even wanted to do about that ultimatum he'd been given.

Part of him still wanted to punch his boyfriend right in the fucking nuts for it. Another part wondered why Cobra felt like it was an either-or scenario in the first place. And yet another part was asking Bickslow why the hell he hadn't gone home to his boyfriend and kissed and made up already.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed up from the swing and made his way through the back door. He closed the door and turned toward the kitchen, only to freeze where he stood. Cobra pulled plates down from the cabinet and set them down on the counter. The kitchen was completely spotless with the exception of the center island covered in cooling trays that held way too many damn pies, and at least four dozen cookies.

Cobra hadn't seen him, he was sure. If he had, then things wouldn't be so quiet. Cobra would be looking at him, maybe yelling at him or something.

"What…" Bickslow was officially fucking confused, that was for sure. And then Cobra turned to look him right in the eye, and he felt like he'd been sucker punched all over again. He'd missed that indigo eye and how it made his insides burn. He'd missed feeling Cobra's hair between his fingers, and those soft lips pressed against his.

When Cobra removed his apron and set it on the hook right next to another one, Bickslow was sure that he was dreaming. He had to be. Because Cobra didn't cook. He was seriously against it, from what Bickslow understood. Any time he asked Cobra to cook, he was met with a flat stare and a slow blink that made him feel almost like a moron for even mentioning it.

"Hey," Cobra said.

God, his voice was beautiful.

No, Bickslow wasn't supposed to turn into some swooning tween over Cobra being there. He was still supposed to be upset with him over this stupid argument. And the shitty situation he'd put both of them in. This was Cobra's fault. There was nothing wrong with Bickslow's friendship with Laxus, and Cobra needed to understand that he couldn't just demand he ditch his friend. If that happened, then who was to say that he wouldn't start trying to control the rest of Bickslow's life? Cobra didn't really seem like that kind of person, but he wasn't sure about a whole lot of anything anymore.

"Yeah, hey…" Bickslow shook his head and went to pour himself a glass of sweet tea. While his back was turned, while he couldn't see Cobra's eye watching his every move, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Cobra winced and turned to face the plates he'd pulled down from the cabinet just as Bickslow turned to face him again, then took them to the table. "Freed came looking for you, saying no one's seen you," he said, setting the table with two plates. He'd been tempted to pull three down, but he was sure this was it. Bickslow was going to make him leave any second. "This was the only place I could think of."

"So that means you had to come all the way down here?" Bickslow really didn't mean to sound so angry about it. Especially not when he watched Cobra's head lower just a little bit.

"Your grandmother invited me when I called this morning." He could almost hear Bickslow wondering how the hell he'd known what Memaw's number was. "You gave me her number a few months ago."

"Why would she invite you?"

Cobra really didn't want to do this. He didn't want to have this conversation, dancing around what he really wanted to ask his boyfriend. Hell, he'd wanted to rush right over into Bickslow's sweaty, bare arms as soon as he'd come up the steps on the back porch, but he'd forced himself to stay right where he fucking was. And at that point, Cobra was glad he hadn't been so fucking stupid.

"She said you were busy working," he finally said, "And she needed help baking this shit for her church thing."

"You have class on Tuesdays."

Cobra shrugged. He was an absolute idiot. He shouldn't have come. No matter how much fun he'd had with Memaw learning how to bake, listening to her stories about Bickslow growing up and the shenanigans he got into over the years, this wasn't fucking worth it. But maybe it was for the best that it happened here and not at their apartment. At least, this way, he could leave and have a couple hours to himself before he had to think about packing his things and moving in with Midnight. "I wanted to help," he said.

It wasn't much of an excuse, but it was the truth.

"Cobra, you shouldn't be here." But he was there already, and Bickslow was left wondering just why he turned and grabbed forks and knives and a couple serving spoons from the drawer - why he even knew where everything was at in the first place, as well - and continued setting the table. He really wanted to know why Cobra did all of that, but made sure Bickslow couldn't see his face.

"I know that. I told her it wasn't a good idea. She just…"

Bickslow's brow lifted and his eyes narrowed. "She just, what?"

He stopped and set down the rest of the cutlery, then braced himself on the table. "She… I don't fucking know. She asked if I'd help, and I didn't really want to tell her no."

If he hadn't thought it was a mistake to show up before, Cobra was sure of it right then. He shouldn't have accepted the invitation to come over from Memaw. Sure, he'd liked feeling as though he was part of Bickslow's family. He'd loved hanging out with Memaw that day. She was a whole lot easier to talk to than he'd originally thought.

Of course, he should have known that it wouldn't work out the way he wanted it to though. He didn't need to look into Bickslow's eyes to know that it was stupid to show up and pretend that nothing was fucked up between them. Because it was. And it was all his fucking fault for trying to force his boyfriend to choose between their piddly shit relationship or his friendship with Laxus. Who the hell was he to ask something like that? What gave Cobra the right to think he could demand something like that of Bickslow?

It wasn't like their relationship was going to last anyway. He knew that. Cobra had always known that. Ever since they'd gone on that first date, it had been there in the back of his head, that things were just temporary, just a fucking experiment. Bickslow had been straight long before he'd ever met Cobra, and once he was no longer around, Bickslow would go right back to being straight. This thing between them had always just been Bickslow seeing what the  _gay thing_  was all about, nothing more. It was so much more for Cobra, though. This was the real fucking deal. He'd tried so fucking hard to keep his heart out of it, but he'd failed. He didn't want to fall for Bickslow, but he fucking did. And he fell hard.

"Well, you helped her out. Looks like you guys are all done though, so you can just head back now."

"Bix, I-"

"I really don't want to hear it." That was a lie. Bickslow did want to hear what Cobra had to say. It was just that he knew it was a really bad time for them to be doing this. Not in his grandmother's kitchen, in the middle of the day. Not when he was fucking exhausted from working outside with the horses since before the sun was up. The last thing he wanted to do was take his frustration with the workers' ineptitude out on Cobra, but Bickslow really couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't do just that.

"Fine," Cobra said. He was surprised his voice didn't waver. It didn't matter how cold or heartless he seemed more often than not, because he still had a fucking heart under it all. He still felt heartbreak just like everyone else. He might never have really felt it before, but he knew that's what this sudden tightness in his chest was. He knew the sharp bite of bile in the back of his throat was just a reaction to the man he really cared about dropping him like a bad habit.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to do this right then. He'd have to drive, feeling this way, like the universe was in the process of chewing its way through his body just to spit him out. "You're right." He was not going to fucking cry. It would be a cold day in hell before he let himself cry over another person. "I should go."

And he left. He didn't try looking back. He didn't see the shock plastered on Bickslow's face at the obvious catch in his voice. Cobra just walked out of the kitchen, right toward the front door. He was just at the foot of the stairs, and more than ready to get the hell out of there, then curse and scream the whole drive back. And he would have made it out, if it hadn't been for the voice drifting down the stairs.

"Erik, could you please come here?"

Cobra stopped dead in his tracks and looked up to the second floor. "Make sure the meatloaf doesn't burn," he said over his shoulder before making his way upstairs, missing Bickslow's dumbfounded expression as he stood in the kitchen. No matter what he wanted to do, Cobra couldn't just leave without telling her goodbye. And he'd told her to call him if she needed anything. He had to go and make sure she was alright. It didn't matter if his head and heart were a jumbled mess of emotion. He just forced it all beneath the surface so he was mildly presentable when he was finally in Memaw's room.

She was carefully sitting up by the time he was at her side. "Everything alright?"

Memaw nodded, smiling as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Don't you let my grandson act like a fool right now," she said softly. "And don't think for one second that he can make you leave my house, either. You're  _my_  guest, you hear me?"

His eye widened and he just fucking stared at her. "Huh?" He jumped when her cold hand rested itself on his wrist. How had she known what was going on? Did she hear what they were saying? Maybe he was just predictable. Or Bickslow was predictable. Maybe she'd assumed that Bickslow would try to make Cobra leave. But he did want to go. He couldn't stay there with Bickslow, not when he knew that his boyfriend wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

"Bickslow's just a little confused right now," she said.

It really didn't seem that way from where he'd been standing. Bickslow had obviously already made his decision. He'd chosen the friendship with Laxus over their relationship. They were done, and Cobra couldn't do anything about it. Maybe in another world, he would have fought to keep Bickslow in his life, but he couldn't. There wasn't a single thing he could do to take back what he'd said, the mistakes he'd already made. And now, he wouldn't get the chance to make things right.

"I want you to tell me somethin', Erik." She let out a slow breath when he nodded and stared down at their joined hands. "How do you feel about my grandson?"

"Um..."

He really wasn't sure what to tell her. Cobra knew how he felt about Bickslow, he loved him with all his fucking heart. But no one knew that. Not Lucy or Midnight, not even Bickslow himself. Because the last thing Cobra wanted was to say those words for the first time, and then lose the guy. He'd rather keep it to himself forever than to let Bickslow know how he really felt.

' _It'll be easier for Bix in the long run to break up with me if he doesn't feel guilty over me loving him.'_

"I, uh…" Cobra didn't know what the hell he was supposed to tell her, but all she was doing was just patiently waiting for an answer from him. And for some reason, he just had this feeling that she already knew the answer that he didn't want to give her. "Well, I…"

"Do you care about him?"

"I do," he said instantly. "I really do."

"That's good."

"I love him." He said it. He'd really fucking said it out loud. Maybe not to Bickslow, but to his grandmother, with Bickslow in the house.

"Does he know that?"

Cobra shook his head and pulled his hand from her grasp. "It'll be easier for him when he leaves me if he doesn't know."

Memaw frowned. "Why would he leave you?"

"Because I'm just… a college thing, I guess. He was straight before, and he'll be straight after. It's fine." It had to be fine. He couldn't let this be anything other than fine. Because if it wasn't fine, then Cobra wasn't fine. And the last time Cobra wasn't fine, he'd been put in a straight jacket for two months while orderlies force-fed him pills just to make him stop screaming, stop hallucinating, stop hearing the voices. He had to be fine with his life falling apart.

"That's not fine, Erik."

Cobra shrugged. He couldn't explain why he wanted to tell her anything. He hadn't even told his two closest friends about the things he constantly worried about concerning his relationship with Bickslow. And it wasn't like Memaw was his own family. Granted, he'd never had one except for Lucy and Midnight, but that wasn't the same. He'd never had parents to go to with questions while growing up. He didn't have a grandmother who liked baking things for her church. He couldn't run back home when things got too rough, just to have a shoulder to lean on, because the only place he could go back to was the fucking orphanage. He might have been raised there, but that wasn't a damn home. Not like this. Not like what Bicklow had with Memaw.

"It's alright," he finally said. "It was stupid of me to think I'd be anything more to him than… this."

"It's not stupid to want to keep the man you love around."

"It is for me," he muttered. "I just… wanted to be selfish for a change. I wanted…" He pulled in a shaky breath and fought back the burning in his eye. He wasn't going to fucking cry. He hadn't cried since seeing Lucy in the hospital after Brain had violated her in an alley. He was  _not_  going to cry over this shit with Bickslow. Never. "I wanted him to love me, and…"

He sniffled. Fuck. He needed to lock it up. Memaw's hand suddenly resting on his shoulder wasn't fucking helping matters. He hadn't cried when Bickslow walked out on him after the party, and he damn well wasn't going to do it now that he knew that there was no hope of keeping the man in his life any longer. And then a tear slid down his cheek. "Goddamnit…"

Memaw shifted and wrapped her arm around his trembling shoulders. She completely ignored the fact that he'd taken the Lord's name in vain when she saw that single tear drip down onto his hand. "Erik, you don't have to hold it in," she whispered. "Just let it out."

"He's gonna leave me because I was selfish," he said. Maybe if he just talked about it, he wouldn't want to cry anymore. Maybe if he got everything off his chest, he'd feel a little better. And if it didn't work, he could always just run out of the fucking house, jump in the car, and drive off a goddamn bridge.

"Selfish, how?"

"It was selfish to think I could be happy for a change. I didn't mean to fall for him. I-I tried not to, and… And it didn't work, and now… H-He thinks I don't wanna tell him the truth. But I do. I want to tell him everything about me, but…"

"But what?"

Finally, he looked into her saddened eyes. "I can't open up to him and love him, and give him everything when I know he's just going to break my heart. The first person I've ever fallen in love with, and I know he's… he's gonna-" His words were cut off by a sharp sob that rattled him straight to his core. He couldn't stop his tears anymore, but Memaw was there, pulling him into her arms and gently stroking his hair.

Bickslow stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and slack-jawed as he watched his boyfriend cry. Cobra didn't cry. And he couldn't have heard it right. This couldn't actually be happening, that much he was sure of. All he could assume was that he'd gotten a kick to the head from one of the horses, and he was actually unconscious on the ground out by the stables. Because he couldn't actually be seeing Cobra crying, being comforted by Memaw. And Cobra definitely couldn't have just said that he loved him.

He couldn't have said that he was scared of opening up because he thought Bickslow was going to break his heart.

"The Lord's got a plan for us all, Erik," Memaw said. Her eyes were closed as she rested her cheek on his head, unaware of Bickslow watching them. "And you fallin' in love with Bickslow is just part of His plan."

"If there's a God, he just like shitting on m-me." He didn't give a shit about watching his language right then. He doubted she really cared all that much either, considering the circumstances.

"Now, I don't believe that for one second," she laughed. "The Lord doesn't give us anything more than what he knows we can handle. And if you and Bickslow are meant to be, then y'all will be together."

Bickslow was well and truly stuck, unsure of what to do. Did he let them know he was standing there? Maybe he should just back away and let them have a minute? He still hadn't a clue what was really going on - why Memaw was in her room with the drapes shut in the middle of the day, or why Cobra was even really there. He knew it was a private moment, but he just kept watching them. For the first time, he saw Cobra latching onto another person the way he did with Bickslow in the middle of the night after having a bad dream.

"Wh-What am I supposed to do?"

"If you lack wisdom, ask God, who gives generously to all without findin' fault, and it'll be given to you," she said.

"You know I'm an atheist, right?" He sniffled and roughly wiped his eye, but didn't try to let her go. He was silently glad that she didn't try to make him move.

"I do," she laughed, still stroking his hair. "But you don't have to believe every word in the Bible to take some lessons away from it."

"Why couldn't I have someone like you growing up?"

"Because then you wouldn't appreciate having a Memaw nearly as much now," she said.

Bickslow found himself smiling, even as her eyes opened and landed on him in an instant. Almost as though she'd known he was standing there the entire time. Then again, knowing her, she probably did.

"I'll tell you right now though… No matter what happens with you and Bickslow, I'm still your Memaw." Her gaze left Bickslow's when Cobra shook his head, and she smiled down at him. "No gettin' around it, Erik. I look at you, and I can feel it. You need a Memaw, and God was gracious enough to make me one."

His grip around her waist tightened marginally. Not too much. He didn't want to crush the little old lady. "Th-Thank you."

Bickslow bit his lip and knocked on the doorjamb, finally letting Cobra know that they weren't alone. "Dinner's ready," he said. "There's… There's an extra place set, if you're interested." He turned and made his way back downstairs to actually pull out a third plate for Cobra to join them. He hadn't planned on asking Cobra to stay. He'd been so angry - at himself for not being able to decide, at Cobra for being there and confusing him more, at those morons working with the horses - but then he saw a part of his boyfriend that had always been hidden. Maybe there was more to what was going on between them than he'd realized before.

Maybe he and Cobra really did need to have that talk. And soon.

"You'll stay for dinner, won't you?" she whispered to Cobra.

"I-I don't know." He really didn't know if he should stay or not. Sure, Bickslow had been the one to put another plate out, to invite Cobra himself, but he just didn't know if he'd be able to handle sitting there with him so close. Not after that little conversation they'd already had.

"Well, it wouldn't be right for you to cook and not eat," she said. "Let's just see how the meal goes, okay? And if you need to leave after, then I'll wrap up some leftovers for you to take home."

"I should go wash up, then," Cobra said. He sniffled and wiped his eye again while sitting up properly. He really couldn't tell her no. "And wash my face…" He helped Memaw stand and walked with her to the stairs, then made his way down the hall to the nearest bathroom. He washed his hands and splashed water on his face. Twice. His reflection really wasn't anything he wanted to look at, but it was the best he could do so he left and went back downstairs to the kitchen to find Bickslow and Memaw setting dishes full of food on the table.

"- raised you with better manners than that, young man. Makin' your friends worry about you like that…"

"Sorry, ma'am," Bickslow muttered.

"And you make sure to get a shower after dinner," she said, smiling when Cobra came in. She pulled a chair out for him and patted the table where she wanted him to sit.

Bickslow laughed, his tongue lolling from his mouth. "I know, I know. I already stink to the high heavens. It'd be rude to make God have to plug his nose."

Cobra was silent. He wasn't going to make a joke about Bickslow smelling divine. He loved how Bickslow smelled when he was covered in fresh sweat. The scent of horses was different though. Not necessarily bad, but different. He didn't even flinch when Memaw grabbed his hand. He barely flinched when he felt Bickslow's hand in his on top of the table, and forced his eye to close and his head to lower slightly while Memaw said grace.

It was awkward, being there and eating the dinner he'd cooked with Bickslow right there. With Bickslow  _knowing_  that he'd been sobbing upstairs like some fucking baby. Hopefully, he hadn't heard the reason behind Cobra's tears. Maybe he'd showed up just before knocking, so he wasn't any the wiser.

Bickslow decided to break the silence by telling his grandmother what was happening on the ranch. Aside from the idiocy he'd dealt with - and mentioning that he'd help her find some new people to fill the needed positions before the week was out - he also told her that they needed to have a farrier come to check out one of the stallion's hooves. He didn't go into detail, since it wasn't proper dinner discussion.

"How come you were in your room?" Bickslow eventually asked.

"Oh, I had a headache, and Erik convinced me to have a little lie down."

"Everything okay?"

"I'm fine," she said.

"I finished the pies, by the way," Cobra said once he found his voice. "And the snickerdoodles are done. You left the recipe out, and those seemed like the most accessible while you were upstairs."

"Thank you, Erik," she said. "I really appreciate that."

Bickslow frowned down at his plate. "Memaw, if you were taking a nap, how'd you make dinner?"

"Oh, Erik made it," she said, her smile widening. Bickslow dropped his fork and she couldn't stop herself from laughing. "He's been a wonderful helper for me, Bickslow."

He quickly rounded on his boyfriend who was staring down at his plate. "Since when can you cook?"

"Since today," Cobra replied with a shrug. "Memaw taught me."

He really couldn't help it. "What the fuck?" And then he regretted it when his grandmother stabbed his hand with her fork. Bickslow wasn't ashamed to admit that he sounded like an altar boy while yelping from the pain.

"I'm not too old to bend you over my knee and soap that mouth, young man," she said, frowning at him. "You watch it."

"Sorry, ma'am," he said while cradling his hand to his chest. It had been years since she'd stabbed him with a fork. Thankfully, she didn't draw blood this time. The last time it had happened, he'd needed stitches in his arm. And, of course, she'd both apologized profusely and lectured him on watching his language.

Cobra was left fighting back a laugh at Bickslow's reaction. "If I've got a recipe, I can do it," he said. "It's just like chemistry, but with food."

Bickslow's attention was drawn back across the table, and he found himself smiling when their eyes met for the first time that day. "You do realize this means I'll make you cook for me, right?"

Cobra's cheeks flushed and he quickly directed his attention back to his food. Why did he have to go and say it that way, as though there was a chance for them to be together. They were done. Bickslow had already ripped Cobra's heart out. Why did he need to step on it as well?

"Bickslow," Memaw said, "Erik brought your schoolbag and your computer with him."

"Oh… Thanks, Cobra."

"Yeah… No problem."

* * *

Bickslow decided to put off dealing with school until after he'd gotten a shower. He was positive that he reeked, and if he didn't get the smell of sweat and horses off soon then his grandmother would drag his ass out back and hose him off. She'd done it before…

Granted, he'd also been in high school and had come home drunk from a party only to puke all over the stairs while trying to get up to his bedroom. She was surprisingly strong for an old woman.

Once his shower was done, he made his way back to the kitchen with the sole goal of getting something to drink before hunkering down to work on his homework. But then he saw Cobra and his grandmother baking, and he couldn't stop himself from just leaning against the wall and smiling at the pair of them.

She'd never been good with people in the kitchen. She had her own way of doing things, and no matter how much space there was, anyone who tried to help her ended up just  _being in her way_. Somehow. But Cobra wasn't. The two of them moved in unison, with Cobra mixing a bowl of dry ingredients while she mixed the wet, then switching places and slowly pouring the dry into the wet while she went to the oven and pulled out batches of finished cookies that needed cooling.

It almost seemed like they'd completely forgotten he was there. But Bickslow kind of preferred it when he saw Cobra dip his finger into the cookie batter and taste it, only to get a wooden spoon to the back of his head. There was that familiar little glint in his eye while Memaw laughed and shook her head in mock exasperation.

It was a side he'd seen bits and pieces of before, only when they were alone. He was having fun, teasing and joking around. It almost seemed as though Cobra hadn't been upstairs crying like there was no tomorrow over the fact that he loved Bickslow. But maybe he was just really good at hiding things. No, Bickslow knew that was the truth. Cobra had always been good at keeping things to himself.

How long had he really held those kinds of feelings inside of him? How long had he loved Bickslow and never gave any indication of it, simply because he'd thought that nothing would come of it?

"Erik, if you eat one more bite of that cookie dough…"

"Come on a live a little, Memaw," he chuckled.

"I've lived plenty," she deadpanned.

"Nonsense," he crooned, holding up a small ball of dough. "You have  _not_  lived until you've gotten a mouthful of this delicious dough. Salmonella from the eggs is a risk, but I think it's time you live dangerously."

"Well, I was quite the rebel back in my younger days."

He chuckled when she took the dough from him and popped it into her mouth. "If you tell me that you used to be a flapper, I'll be horrified and ask to see pictures."

Memaw laughed. "Oil paintings," she mumbled. "We didn't have cameras in the Renaissance."

Bickslow nearly spit his tea out all over the floor at that. His grandmother  _never_  made jokes about her age. And she never let anyone eat cookie dough in front of her. She was a stickler about keeping her batches nice and even. But when he saw her laughing with Cobra, how he made her seem to light up just a little more than usual, Bickslow realized that there was more to this than he'd thought before.

Cobra was the first person he'd ever brought home to meet his grandmother, especially since heading off to university in Magnolia. There had been maybe one or two girls when he'd first started dating at all, but that was mostly because Bickslow didn't drive at the time. He'd never really had a serious relationship before Cobra. He'd never even considered moving in with someone until that handsome chemist fell into his life. He knew that what he'd heard upstairs was true though.

Cobra really did love him. And he loved Cobra, too.

But what was he supposed to do about that argument they'd had? Just thinking about the drama surrounding his friendship with Laxus, it made his gut twist. Bickslow had never thought he'd have to make a decision like this. Choosing between his boyfriend, the man he loves, and his friend. But he  _was_  in that situation, and he had to make a decision.

It would probably help if they actually talked things out. Especially now that they were both sober and more levelheaded.

Except Bickslow had never been one for thinking things through all the way. Sometimes, he just jumped in and went for it. His relationship with Cobra had never been like that. He'd thought about it again and again before asking Cobra on a date. He'd been overthinking everything in the physical side of their relationship, which only ended up freaking him out just a bit. But the times where he  _had_  just gone with things and let them happen as they came, he'd never regretted it.

Cobra had been more than understanding of his reservations and uncertainty. Bickslow knew he deserved to have the same courtesy extended to him.

Slowly, he put his drink on the counter and walked over to where Cobra was measuring out lard for sugar cookies. He smiled down at the back of his boyfriend's head, then slowly, oh so slowly, slipped his arms around Cobra's waist. Cobra stopped moving. Maybe he stopped breathing altogether. But when his head turned so they could look each other in the eye, Bickslow knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss him, to hold him and never, ever let him go.

So he did.

Cobra didn't fight it when Bickslow slowly turned him around, their lips still connected in a slow, meandering, brain-melting kiss. His fingers skittered over the taut grey tee stretched across Bickslow's stomach, higher and higher still until his arms looped around Bickslow's neck. It was only their lips moving against one another, but his grandmother was standing right there. Cobra definitely wasn't going to try and push for more.

Bickslow placed one last chaste kiss on his lips, then drew back with a tender smile. He loved Cobra even more for the dazed, giddy expression that lowered his single eye and painted a light flush on his smiling cheeks. "I choose you," he said. "I'll always choose you, baby."

Cobra didn't hold back his smile. He didn't try to hide his happiness at hearing those words. He would have been more than happy to whoop with joy and jump into Bickslow's arms, but instead he simply laid his head on Bickslow's chest.

"We'll talk it all out in a bit, okay?" Bickslow whispered, kissing the top of his head. "I know Memaw still needs you."

Cobra nodded. "Promise," he said, then bit his lip. Before Bickslow could move away, he held on tighter. "I… have some stuff I need to tell you. About me."

"I'll be all ears," he chuckled.

"Will you just… Promise to take some time to think before changing your mind after I tell you?"

Bickslow frowned at that and glanced toward his grandmother - who was really bad at pretending she wasn't eavesdropping, he realized. "I won't change my mind," he said. "I'm choosing you, Coby."

"Just promise anyway."

"Fine," Bickslow chuckled. "I promise." They stayed that way for another minute, enjoying the warmth of their embrace, then Cobra stepped back and smiled up at him. It was one of those few moments where he got to see Cobra's real smile. The one that crinkled his eye and dimpled his cheeks in the best way possible.

Cobra only allowed himself to watch Bickslow leave the kitchen out of the corner of his eye, and he just kept smiling when he saw his boyfriend kiss Memaw on the top of her head before heading toward the living room. Most likely, to get cracking on the homework that he'd probably been ignoring.

Memaw laughed quietly when she saw Cobra staring at the empty doorway. He looked rather cute when he blushed. "The Lord has a plan for us all, Erik," she said.

He smirked and went back to measuring lard. Or I've just cashed in all the good karma I've gained from my entire life."

All he could hope was that Bickslow would still choose to stay with him after coming clean about the things he'd been hiding. It wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation, that was for sure, but he also had to figure out just how much he was really going to tell Bickslow. It wasn't as though he was going to give him all the information at once. That would be cruel. Maybe to Bickslow, but mostly to Cobra. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get through an in-depth conversation of all the fucked up things that had happened in his life. But he did need to start somewhere.

It had been a long time coming, and if they were going to make this work… If Cobra really wanted a chance at happiness with the man he loved, then he had to put some trust in Bickslow. He had to believe that Bickslow would still care about him, would still want to be with him, once he learned how fucking hopeless Cobra was.


	8. Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an immediate sequel to the previous chapter, and the final part for this arc of their story.
> 
> There's still one more chapter left for this week after today. I hope you guys enjoy! Also, I was all ready to apologize for this being late. I fell behind on writing, what with Halloween coming up and me deciding at the last minute to repurpose my husband's old Joker costume for myself… which meant a lot of measuring and sewing to make the XL costume fit my smaller lady-shaped body.
> 
> Somehow, I made it with time to spare. Probably because I wrote all day today (thank you, Lego Star Wars for being my spawn's new obsession). And because I cut out a scene that will most likely be the next and final chapter of BixCo Week. That one might be late. I don't know.
> 
> But! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. And I really freakin' hope it isn't boring!

_Erik is 20. Bickslow is 22._

* * *

"Erik, you should go and talk to Bickslow," Memaw said while pulling the last batch of cookies from the oven. All that was left was sorting the batches that had been made into little bags, and boxing up the pies. She'd had the bakery order what she needed in bags and boxes, and it wouldn't be too difficult to get that finished on her own. Especially since Erik had helped her out so much already, so she wasn't nearly as tired as she would have been.

"You're sure?" He looked up from where he was mopping the floor - even though they'd been inside all day, the floor was filthy from all the flour and everything else.

"Yes, dear. I can finish this up. You two really should talk."

He frowned and set the mop off to the side, looking around the kitchen one last time. Everything had been cleaned up already. The place was spotless, sparkling. It meant that he had nothing else to help him put off the conversation that he really didn't want to have with Bickslow. Sure, they needed to sort their shit out, especially where Laxus was concerned, but the other stuff… His mental issues… He didn't want to talk about it.

But it was well overdue, and he knew that he couldn't chicken out. He'd never been a scared little shit who hid from fights. Cobra was the kind of person who faced shit head-on, win or lose. And damnit, he was so tired of running from what he should have done a long fucking time ago.

"Yeah," he finally said. "Yeah, I'm going." He took three steps toward the entryway that would take him to the den, where Bickslow was. "You'll let me know if you need more help?"

"Of course," she said, smiling at the narrowed glance he sent toward her. Well, it was true. If she needed help, she would ask. But Memaw already knew that she wouldn't need any help while they were busy talking things out. "Go on, dear."

He nodded and finally left the kitchen. Before he could find a reason to stop himself, he peeked around the corner to see Bickslow hard at work on his laptop. Lying on the couch. Watching videos online. Of fucking kittens sleeping.

God, he was adorable.

"Bix?"

Bickslow sat up quickly and changed the tabs on his computer so it looked like he was doing homework like a good student. "Yeah?" He looked over to see Cobra shuffling in the doorway and smiled. "What's up?"

It was time for them to talk, that was what was up. "I, uh… I left my laptop and shit in the car." That definitely wasn't what he was supposed to be saying. "I should probably bring it inside and make sure it's not overheated or anything." He was running from it. Maybe if he just had a few more minutes, he wouldn't feel like his heart was about to go all chestburster on him.

Bickslow closed his laptop and set it on the coffee table, then made his way over to Cobra. "How about you bring it in, and then we go somewhere?"

"Where?" Fuck, he was standing way too close. Cobra could feel the heat from his chest, the soft brush of breath along his cheeks, and it made his knees weak. When the hell had he become a ditzy lovesick teenager over his boyfriend? He hadn't been like this before their argument. Hell, he'd been bordering on nothing more than a roommate on occasion with the distance he put between them.

"Somewhere that we don't need to worry about anyone hearing us talk." He wanted to close the distance between them and keep Cobra in his arms forever, but they really did need some privacy. And they really did need to air out all the bullshit between them. "Just talking, though. I promise."

Cobra nodded and went to get his school bag from the car. Once he'd set it inside the front door, they walked across the yard toward the woods. Afternoon had come and gone, and he was left staring at the lush yard in wonder. He just couldn't help it. He'd never seen fireflies in anything more than animated films. But they were there, on the ranch, hovering over the grass and blinking in and out of sight.

"Y'know," Bickslow said, carefully lacing his fingers with Cobra's. He smiled when his boyfriend didn't even look at him, far too enthralled by the sight of everything around them. "This is my favorite time. When the lightning bugs are out like this."

"Did you catch them in mason jars, too?" He'd seen it in a movie once. Little kids had run around catching fireflies in mason jars and used them to light up their treehouse at night. Or something like that.

"I did," Bickslow laughed. "But I usually just caught them in my hands."

"Didn't know you could do that."

Bickslow pulled him further across the lawn to stand over a small cluster of slowly meandering bugs. "It's pretty easy. They fly so slowly, you can just scoop them up." As he spoke, he cupped his hands around one and waited until he felt its little legs tickling his palm. He held it out to Cobra, smiling all the while as it crawled across their hands.

Cobra lifted his hand and watched its little legs move. He'd never seen one so close before. Sure, he wasn't really into bugs, but this was pretty fucking cool. And it was made even better when the end of its abdomen started glowing a faint yellow-green that slowly grew brighter. "I've never seen them so close," he said softly.

"You've really never been out of Magnolia, have you?" Bickslow chuckled. The bug flew off and he looked down at Cobra to see his gaze lowered to the ground, a distant, pained look in his single eye.

"I have," he said. "It was a long time ago." He looked up to see the confusion sitting so plainly in Bickslow's eyes. Of course he was confused. He knew Cobra had been in the orphanage in Magnolia, and he knew that he'd gone to school there and stayed to go to the same university as Lucy and Midnight. "Before I was taken to the orphanage, I moved around a lot."

"Where have you been then?" Bickslow let out a quiet, relieved sigh when Cobra held his hand again and they continued walking across the lawn. Considering it was already late in the day, most of the ranch hands were gone. There were a few that were really only on hand in case of emergencies, but they were on the other side of the property and would be leaving once the sun had gone down. No one would be close enough to hear what they were talking about, and with them walking toward the woods on the far right side of his grandmother's property, they would have even more privacy.

They finally stopped under a lone, towering oak tree. Cobra stared out across the yard once again, simply letting himself soak in the serenity and fresh air.

"You wanna know more about me," he said, pulling his hand away and crossing his arms over his chest. Cobra leaned back against the trunk. He really couldn't bring himself to look at his boyfriend. Not if he was going to do this.

"Whatever you're comfortable talking about," Bickslow said, leaning against the tree beside him. "Bits and pieces are fine, too."

Cobra took a slow, steadying breath. He could do this. Bickslow had said bits and pieces. He could tell him bits and pieces. Just enough so he felt like he understood Cobra better. He could do that. "I don't know where I was born," he began. "I don't know how they got me either - whether it happened when I was a newborn, or that I was just in the hospital for something else when I was taken - but I do know that I was moved around on the black market for a while."

Bickslow's attention was instantly drawn to him, and the moisture in his mouth dried up in an instant. "Cob-"

"Do me a favor and don't look at me right now, okay?" Cobra winced, turning his head away from Bickslow just slightly. "I don't want you staring at me. This shit's hard enough to talk about."

"Sorry." Bickslow looked back across the lawn and watched the fireflies.

He sighed. "Anyway… I was moved around a lot. A doctor bought me." He was going to skip over the fact that the bastard had done more to him than surgically enhancing his ears to make him into a 'little baby elf'. That shit still made him sick to his stomach when he remembered how the man had touched his healing ears with his fucking tongue. "I wasn't born here, Bix. He sold me, put me in a crate and had me shipped to some warehouse. And then I was put on a ship and I came here to Fiore."

Bickslow really didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do with this new information. He'd only been told the very vague bit of information that Cobra's childhood was fucked up. Not all of this. It was no surprise that Cobra didn't tell him about this. And he already knew that there was a whole lot that was being glossed over. Bickslow wasn't even sure he wanted to know all the gritty details.

He should have guessed that Cobra hadn't been born in Fiore though. His complexion alone should have been a dead giveaway. Or the shape of his eyes. His cheekbones. His full lips and that little lift at the tip of his nose. Bickslow had always found his boyfriend's more exotic appearance to be intriguing, eventually even alluring and seductive. He'd never thought to question if Cobra was really from Fiore though.

"They moved me around some more once I was here," Cobra said. "I remember a butcher shop, sitting in the walk-in with some little wooden blocks. I couldn't read them though. No one ever taught me the alphabet or… anything, really."

"But you could talk, right?"

He nodded slowly, then remembered that he'd asked Bickslow not to look at him. "Yeah. The doctor was bilingual. I learned how to speak from him for the most part, I think. I still remember some Spanish because of him, I know that much. But the next place I remember was a basement."

Bickslow nearly turned toward him when he felt the way Cobra trembled.

"I was there for… a year, maybe? Or two? I-I don't really know. What happened there was worse, I think, than the doctor."

That doctor had only touched him from what he remembered. He'd licked his ears a lot. But Cobra knew that the pain he'd been put through in that basement was something he'd never felt before then. The hunger pains from not being allowed to eat; that doctor had always made sure he was fed. The fuzziness in his head from not getting any water, or only being given partially curdled milk; the doctor had taken care of him and made sure he had juice and milk. The confusion when he was given a plate of chicken nuggets and juice, only to throw it up because - as he'd learned later in life - his body couldn't handle the heaviness of it when he was so malnourished.

"They hurt me a lot," he said, his voice shaking. "And I don't want to talk about that. Ever."

What he only really remembered in painful flashbacks, usually when he was asleep, was the shit he never wanted to think about. The things they'd done to him. How they'd hurt him. Violated him. It was disgusting. Now that he was older, now that he could look back on it and know for a fact that what they'd done to him was wrong and sick and perverse, it left him feeling… Well, he didn't want to think about how it made him feel. He hadn't known any better at the time, but he had known that it hurt and he didn't want them to hurt him.

"You got it." Bickslow honestly didn't want to know about it. Not if it was something that could make Cobra sound so small and vulnerable like this.

"There was a police raid one day. I think someone had seen me through a window or something…" It was around the time they'd stopped chaining him up, thinking that he'd been broken in enough not to do anything stupid. "They were too late though."

"Too late?" He didn't want to know. He really didn't want to know what Cobra meant by that.

"It was self-defense. That's what I heard the cop telling the doctor at the hospital. I didn't know what that meant at the time. And I was in the hospital for a long time while they got my weight up…"

Bickslow knew that had to mean Cobra had been malnourished. Did that mean the people who'd had him didn't feed him? And self-defense? Did that mean that Cobra had done something to the people who had him?

"I was about to turn five when I finally went to the orphanage. They had this file on me. I guess it came in the crate from that doctor, and he probably got it when he bought me. It had my name and some medical shit. Blood type and all that. Kyouka and Seilah still have it. I told them I didn't want it. Or… maybe Lucy has it now. I don't know."

"Why would Cosplayer have it?"

"I'm getting to that," he said. Cobra's head tipped back to rest against the tree trunk, and he stared up at the gentle wash of dusk across the sky, slowly darkening to plunge the world into night. "Since they didn't know everything that happened to me, the doctors at the hospital went based off of the evidence from the basement. The cops kept the medical records for evidence. When I was released from the hospital, they took me to the orphanage in a police car. I wouldn't let them put me in an ambulance, and since I was taken away from the basement in a police car, that was what I trusted."

There was a very large part of Bickslow that questioned why he'd yelled at Cobra for not telling him more about himself. Now that he knew even a small part of his boyfriend's past, he wished he'd never asked. He didn't want to know this kind of stuff. But he realized, painfully, that this was a large part of who Cobra was. This wasn't something that could just be forgotten, like having a zit when getting ready for prom. This was life-altering, scarring shit.

"Kyouka and Seilah met me at the door," Cobra said. "I'd never been around women before. Not for more than a couple seconds. Even the nurses in the hospital that handled me were men. I was just… so confused. And then scared. God, I was scared all the time, but no one ever knew it."

"Why?"

"Because if I cried, the people in the basement would just make it worse," he said. "Things got better when I met Macbeth. He didn't try asking me questions about everything. Then again, he was fucked up himself, so I guess he just didn't want to pry."

Cobra knew he'd been rambling. He'd given Bickslow a whole lot more information than he'd really intended. And he was sure that much more of talking about this was going to make him drop to his knees and hurl. He was going to need some medication when he got back inside, that was for sure. His hands were already clammy and shaking. The last thing he needed was to have a fucking anxiety attack in the middle of Memaw's yard.

"They put me in therapy right away. Kyouka and Seilah are psychologists. Well, Kyouka's a psychologist, and Seilah's a psychiatrist. Or maybe it's the other way around. I never remember which is which."

"I never knew that."

"Not like it's something I talk about all that often," Cobra said. "After a month or so, they started treating me for Post-Traumatic Stress. They said it could have just been an adjustment disorder, which made sense considering…"

Bickslow nodded. He was tired of looking at fireflies, but Cobra had said he didn't want to be stared at. Maybe looking up at the sky would help. The orange and pink and purple clouds splashed across the sky were kind of pretty.

"After about a year, I was officially diagnosed with PTSD. Anxiety and depression and panic attacks. Overly aggressive. Flashbacks." Cobra looked down at his feet then. "I don't have normal nightmares. Mine are about what happened when I was a kid."

Bickslow cringed. That would explain why he'd gotten punched the first time they'd slept in a bed together.

"I used to freak out when I saw certain things, but that doesn't happen anymore."

"So it's still going on."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I don't think it'll ever really go away, but I'm better than when I was younger. If I wasn't, I never would have talked to you when I saw you smoking a cigarette."

"Really?"

Cobra nodded and lifted the bottom hem of his shirt, drawing Bickslow's attention to him once again. He pointed to a small, faded cluster of oval scars above his hip. "I was an ashtray for a few days."

Burning in the back of Bickslow's throat made it nearly impossible to speak. He'd kissed those scars. He'd kissed all of Cobra's scars. He'd thought some of them were maybe just from getting into some shit over the years - teenage boys were fucking morons, after all - but he'd never thought it was something like that. Something so sadistic and cruel. And he hadn't even been five at the time. What kind of monster would do that to someone so young and innocent?

"A-Are… all of your scars from then?"

"Almost," he admitted. "A couple are from fights and stupid shit. The worst ones are from back then though."

Bickslow knew which ones he was talking about. The scars all over his back. They looked old. They looked like whatever had happened to his boyfriend had been painful as hell. He felt like a jackass for thinking of  _Passion of the Christ_  the first time he'd seen Cobra shirtless. Granted, they'd only been friends at the time. Some pool party with friends of Gajeel's. Cobra hadn't seemed to mind taking his shirt off, though. He didn't look ashamed of those scars.

Bickslow didn't find out until they were actually dating, when things started getting more intimate, that Cobra didn't like people touching them directly. He really was self-conscious about them. Had he let Bickslow touch them because they were together? Had Cobra wanted him to leave them alone when Bickslow had decided to massage him from head to toe?

"I've still got issues with anxiety and depression, though."

"That's what you take the medication for, then," Bickslow said. It made sense. He knew there had to have been something going on for Cobra to take so many different pills every day. He'd thought maybe it was just ADD or something. Maybe a medical condition too, like asthma or… something.

"That's only part of it."

"... Part?" He really did look at Cobra then. He saw how uncomfortable his boyfriend looked. Maybe if he'd been able to see this look on his face before, Bickslow would have stopped him from saying so much. "If you don't wanna tell me-"

"No, I need to," he said. Slowly, Cobra slid down to the ground. He needed to sit. Standing with his whole body shaking like this wasn't working for him. But he was telling Bickslow the things he really should have known a while ago. If they were going to have a solid relationship, then they needed to be able to talk about these things. He didn't need to be embarrassed by the things that were out of his control.

Lucy was always telling him that mental illness wasn't something he needed to hide. She was always saying that part of the problem with mental health was that no one ever talked candidly about it. He should be able to talk with his boyfriend about this. Something so fucking important shouldn't be kept from him.

And if Bickslow thought it was too much for him to deal with, and didn't want to be with him anymore, then Cobra would try to be understanding. He'd really fucking try. It would suck though. And he was already preparing himself for the worst as Bickslow sat down beside him.

"Schizophrenia," he said. There. He'd put it out there. Bickslow knew now.

"Wait, what?"

"I've got schizophrenia."

Bickslow blinked. And stared. He really didn't know a whole lot about that, aside from what he'd seen in movies. "Like, you have multiple personalities?"

"No, that's Dissociative Identity Disorder."

"Do you hear voices and shit?"

"Yeah, if I'm not on my medication," he said. "Or if I need a higher dosage." He didn't need to look at Bickslow to know that he was still confused. Cobra pulled a blade of grass from the ground and started tearing it up. Something to keep his hands busy. "Worst case scenario, I start hearing and seeing things. I get really paranoid, and I have to lock all the doors and windows. Sometimes I can't talk at all, and I'm just stuck in my head, and my thoughts are racing. Or I can't bring myself to move at all, and then I start worrying about everything… I can get really depressed, or really fucking manic and crazy. I don't… I don't feel like  _me_  when I'm like that."

"I thought schizophrenic people were locked up in asylums."

He shook his head at that. "Not if they're medicated. I've been locked up a couple times. I wasn't taking my meds. The last time, I'd forgotten to take them and then convinced myself that demons were using them to poison me so I wouldn't fight back when they tried to suck out my brain." He'd been found under a bridge, screaming at the top of his lungs. If it hadn't been for the card in his wallet naming Lucy as his emergency contact, Cobra wasn't sure if he would have ever gotten out of the looney bin again.

Thankfully, she'd been called. She came down to the hospital and told them whatever she needed to. He'd been put back on his meds and kept under observation for two weeks. And when he got out, she had been there with Macbeth and they took care of him.

Bickslow really didn't know what to say to that. It sounded absolutely insane. But he'd been with Cobra for a year already, and he'd never seen anything like that before. He'd never known that his boyfriend was depressed or anxious or anything else, either. Sure, Cobra was a bit standoffish at times. It took a bit of work to get him to be more emotionally available.

"You're wondering how you never noticed."

"Yeah," Bickslow sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You seem so… normal."

"That's what I wanted you to see," Cobra finally admitted. That was probably the biggest secret of them all. He felt Bickslow's eyes boring into him though, and he knew that he needed to explain it. "I don't tell people about this shit. Not my friends or the people I date. And with you being confused about what we were doing at first, I didn't want to heap my bullshit on top of it all. I just wanted you to be able to experience our relationship as if it was any other relationship."

"So, you lied to me?"

"No," he said. "I just kept it to myself. If you wanted to do something with me, and it was almost impossible for me to get out of bed that day, I forced myself to do it anyway. I wanted to be with you, and that meant making sure you were happy being with me, too."

Bickslow frowned at the ground between his feet. So Cobra had just been pretending that everything was fine for the past year, when he'd been suffering the whole time? "What else?"

"I don't know. I just… I didn't want you to leave me because of this, and I figured the best way to make sure it didn't happen is if you just didn't know."

"You were never going to tell me?"

"I was," he said. "And then I convinced myself not to every time I tried. And then we moved in together, and I knew I had to tell you. You saw my meds. How many I take. You'd start asking questions eventually. And I knew that if something happened and I went off my meds, you needed to know what could happen with me. I mean, it's not like I get violent or anything if I'm not medicated… Just… crazy."

Cobra chewed the inside of his cheek as silence stretched on between them.

"If you wanna know more about it, you can ask Bright Eyes or Midnight. She says they don't have a problem answering questions about it."

"When did she say that?" Bickslow asked, his frown deepening.

"This morning when I was on the phone with her. Before I came over here." His gaze drifted across the grass once more to find that the fireflies were gone. There were no more little glowing lights hovering over the lawn. "I needed her to tell me it wasn't a mistake to come… among other things."

"You were worried about that?"

Cobra shrugged. "Well, yeah. We had a fight. I told her what happened and she started getting pissed about how you handled it, saying you should have known that I would worry like crazy, and what if I'd gone off my meds and shit."

"Why would you have worried like crazy?" Bickslow asked. "I mean, I was gone for a few days, but not that long."

"Paranoid, remember?" he muttered. "I think the worst. I always do. And then I feel guilty over shit for no reason. Sometimes it makes me so fucking angry, but… I just bottle it up. I'm good at that."

"That can't be good for you," Bickslow said. He finally turned fully toward Cobra and lightly placed a hand on his to stop him from tearing at the small blade of grass. "I didn't know it'd be like that for you with me just leaving the way I did."

He couldn't look into Bickslow's eyes though. Instead he just nodded. That was really all he could manage because talking about everything he had, had just drained him.

"You said something about Lucy maybe having those papers," Bickslow said gently.

"Right," he nodded. "When we turned eighteen and left the orphanage, I knew there might be times when I wouldn't be able to take care of myself. I still wasn't consistent with my meds at the time, and I couldn't even get a job because of it. I needed someone who could make decisions for me, if I wasn't able to do it myself."

"So you gave her power of attorney," Bickslow said. He remembered Lucy mentioning having medical and financial power of attorney for Cobra after his accident. Was that really why she had it? Because there were times when his boyfriend was incapable of caring for himself?

"Yeah, that way if I'm baker acted again, there's still someone who's looking out for my best interests. Sometimes, it gets so bad that I can't speak to anyone. Lucy knows what to do though. And Macbeth is secondary, in case she's not available for some reason."

"So she might have the papers…"

"Because Lucy holds onto all of the medical records for me and Midnight. She takes care of us." A small smile finally curled one corner of his lips. "Ever since we became friends, she's taken care of us. She made sure Midnight slept at night, or that he wasn't disturbed when he slept during the day. She gave me someone to talk to about shit if I wanted…"

Cobra really just wanted to be done talking about all of this. He was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally. Fucking spiritually, probably. But there was still so much they needed to talk about. Like Laxus, and that stupid argument. He really needed to get around to telling Bickslow about the drama between himself and Laxus, anyway. Cobra didn't want to break up their friendship, even though that's what his ultimatum had ultimately done. Bickslow needed to have more information though. That was a given.

But he just felt so fucking raw inside, like someone had taken a sandblaster to his fucking entrails. He wasn't ready to get into another heavy conversation. Not with everything he'd just laid bare for Bickslow. What had taken a long ass time for him to tell his two best friends, he'd crammed into a single conversation. He'd never done that before. He never wanted to do that again, either.

"About Laxus," Cobra began. He wasn't ready for this. He needed to find his equilibrium after what he'd just done, but he was willing to push himself. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done something that made him uncomfortable for Bickslow's sake.

Bickslow's other hand clasped around his and he lightly squeezed. "It's okay," he said gently. For the first time since they started talking Cobra looked at him. Really looked at him. And Bickslow found it kind of adorable that he looked so confused.

Except he couldn't make any jokes right then. Because it didn't take a genius to see that Cobra was vulnerable and probably not in the best place to keep talking about this stuff. He'd never seen his boyfriend look quite like this though. And in that moment, he realized just how much had been kept from him, how much more still lurked beneath the surface. How much had this been eating at Cobra the entire time they'd been together? And he'd kept it all to himself, for Bickslow's sake.

But things couldn't keep going that way if this was going to work between them. Clearly they both needed to work on their communication skills. Bickslow needed to be more aware of Cobra's needs. Cobra needed to actually voice those needs though. He couldn't expect Bickslow not to be willing to deal with problems, and they couldn't just pretend nothing was wrong.

"Baby, I want you to be honest with me from now on," Bickslow said, cupping Cobra's cheek. "No more secrets, okay?"

Of course, he knew that even the best, most loving relationships had secrets. His grandparents' relationship probably wasn't the best - considering Pop-Pop cheated on Memaw… unless they were into that sort of thing, but Bickslow really didn't want to know if that was true - but they loved each other. And his grandfather had taken the truth about whether or not he believed Memaw about Jackson to the grave.

People didn't need to know every little detail about the person they loved.

Cobra readily agreed to that. He didn't want to keep secrets anymore. It had been the basis for every relationship he'd ever had before, and none of those had worked out. He had such a close bond with Lucy and Midnight, and even Gajeel on occasion, because there weren't secrets. They knew each other.

Slowly, Bickslow's arm wrapped around his shoulders, drawing Cobra into his chest. "So, is this something we need to wait to talk about?"

"We need to," Cobra said.

"Sure," Bickslow nodded. "We really do, but you just told me so much more about yourself than ever before. And you kinda don't look so good right now."

Cobra bit his lips and glanced away in shame. He'd been sure that Bickslow wouldn't really know that he just wasn't okay right then. While he'd been willing to push himself to get through this, maybe he did need to take a little break. Bickslow wanted him to be honest. Cobra knew he needed to let himself open up more, for the sake of their relationship. And while part of opening up meant talking about things - like he'd been doing - another part of it was being able to tell the truth. Like how he really didn't want to say anything more right that moment.

"Maybe it can wait a little while," he finally said. "I just… There's a lot of bullshit with Laxus from over the years."

"When we'll talk when you're ready. It's okay."

He looked back up at Bickslow. "I just wanna say one thing first, then…" He took a slow, steadying breath. "Then we can talk more about it later."

"Sure."

"The only reason I said what I did was for you," he said. "I wanted to make it easier for you, Bix. I'll never get along with Laxus, and I didn't want to put you in the middle of that."

Bickslow nodded and sifted his hand through Cobra's hair, lightly scraping his nails along his scalp. He could understand the reasoning, and he could at least appreciate the thought behind what Cobra had said. It was fucked up, the way he'd gone about doing things, but it was done. Bickslow had made his choice, and he felt so much closer to Cobra now.

The things his boyfriend had gone through were fucked up, and he now understood why Cobra was so hesitant to open up more. Between what he'd gone through as a kid and the things he was still dealing with, it was no surprise that he would be secretive about himself. But he'd done that for Bickslow. He'd pushed past the discomfort and let Bickslow in.

He loved that Cobra made a soft sound of contentment and cuddled closer to him. He was still shaking, but just knowing that he could still seek comfort in Bickslow's arms made this so much better.

"I do wanna tell you more about me," Cobra said after several minutes in silence. His voice trembled, and while he tried to stop it from happening, he was starting to feel as though it wasn't a completely horrible idea to let himself be a little less in control of every little thing. "But there's just one thing I want to ask."

"Go ahead," Bickslow said.

"That time before the orphanage… I really don't like thinking about it. Can we…" God, how did he put this? "Not ignore it, but…"

"That stuff is off-limits unless you want to talk about it?" Bickslow asked. He could understand that. He didn't want to force his boyfriend to think about that. And part of him really didn't want to know a lot of it. But if Cobra was ever willing to talk about it, or if he felt like he needed to talk about something from that time, Bickslow was willing to listen.

"Yeah," Cobra sighed, relaxing just a little. "There's a lot I don't remember, since I was so young, but what I do remember…"

"I'll be patient." He gently squeezed Cobra's shoulders. "And if there's stuff you never tell me about that, then fine. I won't force you to relieve that just so I know everything about you."

Cobra smiled when Bickslow started gently massaging the space between his shoulders.

"You know, I'm an open book."

"Yeah," he chuckled.

"Which makes you more like one that was left in the rain." He smiled down at Cobra. "I'm okay with some of your pages being stuck together, Coby."

Cobra's cheeks flushed and he snuggled even closer to Bickslow. One hand found its way to his boyfriend's shirt and his fingers clutched at the fabric. "I'm so fucking lucky," he whispered. "Thank you…"

Bickslow shifted until Cobra sat between his legs, wrapping both arms around his still shaking shoulders and caging him in.

"You have no clue how fucking scared I was, Bix."

"Scared of what?"

"That I'd pushed away the best thing that's ever fucking happened to me. You… You make me feel normal. Like there's not so much that fucked up in my head. And when you left, I just… I thought I'd lost you for good." It was so much easier to talk with him now. Cobra was actually glad that he'd tried opening up.

"Yeah," Bickslow winced. "I probably could have handled it better…"

"Me too," Cobra chuckled. He looked up into Bickslow's eyes, allowing his boyfriend to see the tears that had welled on his lashes but refused to fall. He'd cried enough that day, that was for sure. "Forgive me for being a bitch?"

Bickslow grinned. "Forgive me for making you worry?"

Cobra nodded and really smiled for the first time since they'd started talking. No matter what had happened between them, no matter how many times they argued, he knew that he could never really be mad at Bickslow for long. Especially when the lovable dork was smiling at him the way he was right then, with his tongue hanging from his mouth.

Especially not when Bickslow held him even tighter and fell to the ground so they were lying side by side. Not when the goober rolled to lie on top of him and just fucking held him. They didn't kiss. Oddly enough, Cobra was glad that Bickslow didn't try to kiss him right then.

He was more than happy that they'd made up, but after the talk they'd had he just didn't feel  _right_. Having strong arms around him - specifically Bickslow's arms - helped though. He simply curled around Cobra and treated him like a teddy bear. He held Cobra, protected him, whispered to him that everything was alright and they were still strong together. That nothing was going to tear them apart, and that he didn't need to worry so much because Bickslow would always be there for him.

And damnit, he loved the big lug even more for somehow knowing just what he needed to hear.


	9. The Truth of What I Did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to wait until I'd written the final prompt for BixCo Week (super late, obviously) before posting this and the next chapter. But I'm tired of waiting. And I'm trying to move everything over from my FFnet account, so this is really just the best time to do it.
> 
> This chapter was originally posted as a chapter in "Midnight to Dawn" before I'd given Bix and Cobra their own story.
> 
> As a point of reference, this chapter takes place at the same time as [Chapter 3 of Midnight to Dawn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440449/chapters/38496263#workskin).

 

Erik is 21. Bickslow is 23.

* * *

Bickslow really couldn't get enough of the way Erik's chest heaved while he was in the throes of passion. How his deeply tanned stomach quivered while his lover's tongue snaked over it to lap up the milky white trails that had splashed onto him. For the first time in his life, Bickslow had found himself wrapped around a man's finger, and he never wanted to let this go.

"I… Fuck, I love you, Bix," Erik panted. He moaned when his boyfriend grinned while bringing their lips together, his arms winding around the muscular body he'd grown addicted to over the past two years.

"I love you too, Coby."

It had been several hours since Erik had gotten off the phone with Lucy, but there had been a single thought nagging at the back of Bickslow's mind since then.

" _No one hurts my baby sister and gets away with it."_

He just couldn't understand what Erik had meant. Or even why Lucy had gotten herself so worked up in the first place over her and Macbeth moving forward in their relationship. The two had been together for a year, and he'd already learned just that day alone that they'd hardly gone past a couple touches here and there.

And Bickslow knew Macbeth had to have wanted more than just that with Lucy. Who in their right mind wouldn't? She was gorgeous and hilarious, and downright sexy even though he could tell she never tried to be.

Erik frowned into the kiss and slowly turned his head away to draw Bickslow's attention. "You okay?"

For his part, Bickslow only shrugged and buried his head in the crook of Erik's neck, peppering the soft flesh with slow kisses.

"Something's on your mind," Erik whispered, his eye narrowing. It wasn't hard to tell when Bickslow was a little preoccupied. He'd been that way while they were having sex, but Erik had been too wrapped up in the pleasure streaking through his body to ask any questions. But when he could quite literally feel how distant his boyfriend was while they were kissing, he needed to know what the hell was going on.

And maybe it was more about Erik feeling a little insecure concerning their relationship, even after two years together, because Bickslow had been adamantly straight before they started seeing each other. What had been simply hanging out to the blue-haired Theology major, had eventually turned into the best relationship Erik had ever been in.

He really didn't want that to disappear.

Bickslow rolled onto his side, pulling the smaller tanned body right along with him. "Not a good time to talk about it," he finally sighed. He knew Erik was curious, and that it would only get worse until he just came clean and asked what the hell he'd been talking about to Lucy, but right after sex? Yeah, horrible timing.

The only issue was that Erik was the master of horrible timing when he wanted to be. And he was pushy.

Just before he could say anything, Bickslow opened his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow. "I don't want you getting pissed because I'm curious about something," he said while tenderly stroking Erik's scarred cheek.

"Why would I get pissed?"

"Because it's about Lucy."

Erik blinked slowly, his eye narrowing in suspicion. "Is this about her and Midnight?" When Bickslow nodded, he sighed and pulled away from his lover, rolling toward the edge of the bed. "I'm not talking about it," he frowned. "It's not my place to say anything."

"Coby, I just wanna know what you meant."

"What  _I_  meant?" He turned to look at Bickslow over his shoulder just before standing up, his frown deepening.

"You said 'No one hurts-'"

"No," Erik spat. "I'm not saying a thing. You wanna know, then you have to ask Bright Eyes. But I'll tell you right now that I'll cut out your fucking tongue before you get the chance."

"Erik!" Bickslow sat up and quickly reached out toward Erik, wrapping a firm hand around his lover's wrist. It wasn't often that the guy would take that tone with him. Like he was actually planning on carrying through with his threat. In fact, Bickslow couldn't ever remember Erik sounding like he was serious about hurting someone. "What the fuck?"

"Leave it alone, Bickslow."

"I'm  _Bickslow_  now?" he asked, his eyes wide. "Baby, what's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

Erik moved to pull away, scowling down at the hand that tightened on him. "Will you  _please_  move your fucking hand?" he whispered. He tried again, groaning in annoyance when he felt Bickslow moving closer and those familiar, muscular arms winding around his waist from behind. At least the guy had gotten the picture and let go of his wrist. That was still a sensitive spot for him, and not in a good way. Thankfully, he didn't have any scars there from his childhood, but he felt like he did.

"There," Bickslow whispered gently. "I moved my hand. Baby, just talk to me."

"I can't," Erik whispered.

"If not about that, then something else. Just don't pull away from me, okay?"

"I won't talk about that shit," Erik said again, sighing as Bickslow pulled him just a little closer.

"Can you help me understand why, maybe?" Bickslow asked. "You don't have to say what it's about, but… I just want to understand."

Erik frowned and bit his lip, indecision curling in his gut. Bickslow had always been about understanding why things were the way they were. It was what had really attracted Erik to him in the first place, even before his physical appearance. Any time the guy found out something new about the issues Erik had, he wouldn't just run. He worked through it, just like he was a researcher in a lab - in a way that helped Erik himself put some distance from it and handle it as well.

"If you found out," Erik finally said. "You'd… You'd leave me."

"I'm not gonna leave you over nothing," Bickslow frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"Because it's  _not_  nothing. Bix, I…"

The blue-haired man loosened his grip and simply watched as Erik moved to sit against the headboard. He didn't make any sudden moves, and already knew that sometimes his boyfriend just needed to have some distance, even while they were talking. "Do you want your boxers?"

Erik nodded, then caught the underwear Bickslow tossed to him. Once they were both dressed - because Bickslow was putting his own back on and taking a seat on the foot of the bed - Erik stared down at his hands and sat in silence.

"Should I ask the questions, or…" Bickslow ran a hand through his hair when Erik shook his head.

"Do you promise to hear me out through the whole thing?"

"You know I will."

"I want you to promise, Bix," Erik said earnestly. "I've never told anyone this. Not the whole thing. Bright Eyes and Midnight know some of it, but Gajeel knows all of it. He was there, so…"

"I understand," Bickslow nodded. "And I-"

"No," Erik whispered. "I mean, I want you to promise, but I don't wanna force you to hear it…"

"Baby, I'll listen to however much you wanna tell me. You know that."

Erik wanted to ask Bickslow to promise not to leave, but really… He had every right to do just that. "I murdered someone," he finally said. It was probably best to just get the biggest bomb out of the way, and if Bickslow didn't run right then, then he could explain why.

"... What?"

"A few years back," Erik nodded, slowly lifting his head to look into a pair of shocked, crimson eyes. "You deserve to know the whole thing, so I'll tell you. But… Just promise me that, whatever I  _do_  tell you… You won't tell Macbeth and Lucy."

"Why… Erik, I can't promise that…"

"They know I killed him," he said. "They just don't know who it was. And Gajeel and I swore we'd never tell them. Please, Bix. If you wanna have me locked up, then fine. Just… Just promise you won't tell them, okay?"

Bickslow shifted uncomfortably on the end of the bed, but he still gave a short nod. It seemed more important to Erik than anything that this be kept a secret. They didn't keep secrets from one another, with his boyfriend's childhood being the only thing that was really just off-limits to talk about. But, Bickslow had learned enough about that in small tidbits that he understood why Erik didn't want to even think about it.

"Alright," he finally whispered. "I promise not to tell Macbeth and Lucy."

Erik let out a slow breath, then grabbed one of the pillows and hugged it to his chest as he started to speak.

And as Bickslow heard the story about Lucy being raped when she was sixteen, and how Erik had seen her in the hospital, bruised and finally sleeping in Macbeth's arms, he started to understand why she had a hard time opening up physically with her boyfriend. He had a hard time picturing the blonde looking so broken, but he was sure that five years could do wonders where healing was concerned. Sometimes.

"So," Erik sighed, "Gajeel and I started looking into it. It took us a couple months to put the pieces together, because he had to break into the police station and get copies of her file… But when we did, it wasn't too hard to find the guy."

* * *

Erik's amethyst eyes narrowed while he sat in the passenger seat of Gajeel's car. With the engine off and the windows cracked to let in a little air, the two sat in complete silence, waiting for the bastard to get home from meeting with his parole officer. And then they continued waiting.

It wasn't until after ten at night, five hours after they'd arrived and seen him walking into the little shithole duplex that the two put their plan into action. The two teenagers got out of the car, closing the doors as silently as possible, and Erik kept one hand on the black strap of his backpack as he and Gajeel made their way around the back of the building.

Neither of them had been expecting to find the guy outside smoking a damn cigarette when they jumped over the fence.

And Erik, especially, hadn't known he would be seeing the motherfucker grinning as though he had all the damn answers sitting in his back pocket.

"Can I help you kids with something?"

Gajeel's crimson eyes hardened along with his jaw, and he took a step closer, placing himself between the man and Erik. "We're just lookin' for someone," he said. "Got a bone to pick with 'im."

"What sort of bone might that be?"

"That's between us and him," Gajeel shrugged.

But Erik already knew that the raven-haired teenager with him was aware that this was who they were looking for. They'd studied his description enough times to be able to pick him out of a damn lineup. There were only so many guys out there that had tattoos like his, but it was something that wasn't in the file in its entirety. Lucy had started drawing little doodles on her notebook that were identical to this guy's tattoos. It had to be him.

The problem with this whole shitstorm now was that there was no way they could sneak up on the guy. He was expecting them, it seemed. And damn it, that just made Erik want him dead so much more.

"You got an alibi for a few months back?" he asked.

"I haven't committed any crimes," the man with silver hair chuckled. "Just ask my parole officer."

Erik's jaw tightened when he put the cigarette out in the little black ashtray on his leg. And when the man stood up, looking for all the world as though he was ready to just walk back inside, Erik's eyes followed the little plastic tray down to the white lawn chair he'd been sitting on.

"You kids are welcome to come inside, if you'd like. I've got some beer."

"We're underage, man," Gajeel scowled.

"Oh, I won't tell if you won't," he chuckled.

Erik nudged Gajeel's side with his elbow, then gave a nod when his companion looked at him. Maybe if they could just get inside, then they could ambush the bastard. These duplexes were small, after all, and the man they were after was probably too old and too slow to really keep up with them. "A beer sounds pretty fucking awesome," Erik smirked. "Thanks."

Gajeel's hands tightened into fists as he followed Erik and the man inside, closing the door behind them. The place was a fucking dump with used paper plates and empty pizza boxes everywhere. He and Erik took a seat on the ratty couch, and while the man went to get the beers from the fridge, Gajeel turned to glare at his friend.

"Just follow my lead," Erik whispered, barely moving his lips. "And don't say my name."

He remembered very well how the people that had taken and sold him repeatedly when he was a kid had made sure to never use their names. Not their real names. Because, if he ever got free and ratted them out, no one wanted the little slave to be able to identify them.

"So," Erik said a little louder, "You said a parole officer?"

"Yes. I've recently been released from prison."

"What did you do?"

"Hope it wasn't kiddy porn or some shit," Gajeel sneered as the man rounded the corner with a six pack. The two teens took a beer, then opened them. Neither really drank the contents as they lifted the cans to their lips.

"No," the man chuckled. "It was murder. Well, I should say I was  _convicted_  of murder and domestic assault, but… I'm innocent."

"Hence the parole," Erik nodded. "Makes sense."

"You're a pretty smart kid."

"I hear that a lot."

"And what might two boys be doing out here at this time of night?" He took a swig of his beer and rested the can on his knee, his grey eyes flitting from one teenager to the other. "Looking to make a score by breaking and entering somewhere?"

"Something like that," Gajeel chuckled darkly.

"Well, you two sure look like a couple criminals. Then again, living in that orphanage, I wouldn't really expect either of you to have a whole lot of anything."

* * *

"Wait," Bickslow frowned. "What do you mean, he knew you and Gajeel were in the damn orphanage?"

Erik ran a hand through his hair again. He'd lost count how many times it had happened while he'd been telling the story. "I mean just that. He knew  _exactly_  who me and Gajeel were. Our names, where Gajeel's old man used to work before he fucking died. All of it."

"And you were sitting in his damn house, getting ready to kill him," Bickslow said.

"We were. We had the whole thing planned out. Tase him, throw his ass in the trunk, drive out to the woods and kill him. Then leave his body for the animals. It was easy when we talked about how to do it."

"Erik, if you knew who raped Lucy, why didn't you just tell the fucking cops?"

"They wouldn't have believed us," Erik scowled. "And even if they had, it would have killed her to find out who he was."

"Who the hell was he?" Bickslow asked. "You've still left that part out."

Erik lifted his head, his single indigo eye openly displaying the sadness he felt. "He went by Brain," he whispered. "The bastard was Macbeth's fucking dad."

* * *

Gajeel didn't waste any time with small talk, and instead lunged for Brain. Their arms locked together, with the pierced teenager struggling more than he would have thought to overpower the bastard.

"This is about the little blonde, right?" Brain laughed. "Tell me, is she still in the hospital?"

"Shouldn't you already fuckin' know, ya goddamn stalker?"

Brain's eyes flashed with rage, and he brought one foot up, then kicked Gajeel in the knee. Just as the raven-haired teen collapsed with a roar of pain, Brain spun and caught Erik's throat in one hand before he could reach into his backpack for the taser. "I'm not a stalker," he smirked.

Gajeel coughed when a heavy foot connected with his ribs, then his jaw. Erik gripped Brain's hand tightly as the toes of his boots scraped along the floor while Brain lifted him higher.

"I'm a professional," Brain chuckled. "You should get to know who your target is. Learn their habits. And let me tell you, I was  _very_  happy she was walking alone that night."

Erik gasped for every ounce of precious air he could get, letting his legs and hands fall limp to conserve his energy. He could hear Gajeel grunt, feeling Brain's weight shift when he moved to kick the other teen to keep him on the ground.

"Should I tell you what I did to her?" Brain asked the maroon-haired teen. "How she tried to fight back, so I hit her over the head with a rock. I can still smell her slutty little cunt at night sometimes. It's not what I was being paid to do, but… I was just supposed to give her a message anyway."

"Wh-What?" Erik croaked.

"Oh, I did forget to actually do that part," Brain laughed. "Here, I'll tell you. And then you and your little friend here can go back and tell Lucy. How does that sound?"

"Yer a… goddamn liar," Gajeel coughed. He groaned when the next kick hit him in the jaw, sending spit and blood spattering across the stained, grey carpet. "Yer just gonna kill us, ain't ya?"

"Possibly," Brain grinned. "Maybe just you. And I'll let the runt live."

Erik's eyes rolled back in his head when his vision darkened, but he forced himself to keep trying to pull in air. No matter how little it was.

"So, here's the message: Ivan wants the little girl dead, but he's planning on doing it himself. So, tell Lucy that she's got until he gets out of prison to figure something out. No cops, either. They'll never believe her."

"Wh-Why… you?" Gajeel whimpered.

"Oddly enough, they made us cellmates," Brain replied. He frowned down at Erik and loosened his grip just enough so the boy didn't lose consciousness, then smacked him for good measure. "I got to tell Ivan all about my little faggot son who wears makeup, how he wanted to be like his mother so badly that I decided to kill him. Then, the little shit ran out and went to the neighbor, only to get her killed in the process."

Erik had to fight to keep himself still at that. "So, you  _are_  Macbeth's dad."

"Oh, he told you about me? Was it while he was sucking your dick?"

"Macbeth ain't gay," Gajeel growled.

"It doesn't really matter. He's a disappointment. And Lucy… Well, Ivan told me how he had her father killed, and the little bitch was lying under Jude's corpse. She pointed the finger at him, since he showed up looking for keys to Jude's safe. And now he's just getting her back for it. It was just a bonus that she's so close to that pathetic excuse for a son I had."

"You're… so f-fucking dead," Gajeel panted. He groaned as another kick hit him in the side.

And Erik finally took that opportunity to pull the knife from his pocket and send it careening into Brain's stomach. The silver-haired man's shock lasted just long enough for Erik to lunge forward and push him back down onto the couch.

"You stabbed me," Brain said, blinking in surprise.

"The name's Cobra, you little shit," Erik rasped. His anger had gotten the better of him by then, and instead of a flashback to when he was a little kid, instead of imagining he was hurting the men that had abducted and tortured and fucking raped him when he was only a child, all Erik could see was Lucy lying in the hospital bed. Her swollen face. Tears drying on her cheeks. The bandages that she'd tried to hide while leaving the hospital.

He saw Macbeth's missing makeup, that he knew had been scrubbed off while his best friend had cried in the hospital with her.

Lucy and Macbeth sleeping in bed together, and hearing her whimper and cry in her sleep, even with Macbeth's arms around her. How she would wake up screaming almost every night.

Erik withdrew the knife and sunk it back into Brain's torso, moving just a little higher. "And this is for hurting my fucking family."

Brain wrapped a hand around Erik's wrist, pushing the knife in deeper. His eyes were wide and crazed as he leaned forward slightly. "Is that the best you've got,  _Cobra_?"

And suddenly, Erik could feel a part of him breaking inside. He didn't disconnect from the moment, and instead shivered in delight as the knife ripped up the center of Brain's chest. And as the man coughed up a mouthful of blood, Erik sneered and brought the knife to his throat. "You're not worth my best," he hissed.

* * *

"And then I cut his throat," Erik whispered. "Gajeel actually had to pull me off of him, even after Brain died. I just kept… cutting him. Stabbing him. Making sure he... I couldn't stop."

Bickslow swallowed the bile rising in his throat, listening in horror at the odd sharpness in his lover's voice. There was pain there, he could see that much, but it was the fact that Erik was nearly smiling while describing what he'd done to kill Lucy's attacker that had his blood running cold.

"We cut him up though," Erik continued. "Then we drove out of town and tossed his body parts in the woods, a couple different streams… I… I kept his head though."

"… You what?"

"I kept his head. I had to find a way to make it so he couldn't be identified. I stole some acid from the chemistry lab and burned his fingerprints off. But, dental records… Shit like that… I wasn't gonna risk it."

"Wh-What did you…"

"I ripped his teeth out and threw them in the trash when I went back to school. Then I used lye and water to burn his skin off," Erik answered. "It was… It was like a horror movie, y'know? Where the skin just melts like wax? Then I took a hammer and crushed his skull and scattered it in the woods somewhere."

"Is that…" Bickslow cleared his throat a few times before he could get his voice relatively even. "Is that all of it?"

Erik nodded, not daring to look at the man he loved right then. "After it was done, I told Midnight that Gajeel and I handled it. He wanted to know who it was, but… I couldn't tell him. I couldn't look him in the eye and say, 'Your dad got out of prison and raped the girl you love, because the guy she got locked up is still holding a grudge'. So I lied. I told him, and I told Lucy, that me and Gajeel found the guy, who was some drug dealing asshole that was looking to get into sex trafficking, and that we made sure he'd never hurt her or anyone else again."

"So, they know you… you k-killed someone."

"They do. And that I hid his body. Not where. Just enough for the two of them to feel at peace with it. That's all I wanted."

"Um…" Bickslow took a shaky breath, and was shocked to find that he was struggling to sit still when Erik finally looked at him. He wanted to shy away from the smaller man.

"You know I killed people before," Erik whispered. "Is this any different?"

"Y-You were a kid," Bickslow said, sounding unsure even to himself. "They hurt you. That was, y'know… It was self-defense then."

"And with Brain?"

"That was just murder."

"It was for Lucy. No one would have ever found out he did it. We only did because I heard Lucy talking in her sleep sometimes. She'd whisper something, and I'd hear it and write it down…"

"You didn't just murder him though."

"No," Erik answered. "I slaughtered the bastard. And I'd do it again in a fucking heartbeat."

Bickslow didn't fight his natural reaction to draw back at that. He nearly fell off the bed in the process, but he just needed to have a little more space between himself and Erik. And, of course, that action didn't go unnoticed.

"I'd do anything to keep her safe, Bickslow," Erik whispered, staring down at his hands again. "Anything at all. Lucy's the only person aside from Macbeth that gets me… They've never judged me for being the way I am, not just being gay but… The fact that I'm an asshole with more issues than a goddamn magazine stand. Lucy's always been there to make me smile, just by being who she is… He took her smile away from me - away from everyone - for a long time…"

"Erik, I… I mean, I wanna say I get it. But, I just don't." Bickslow stood up and wrapped his arms around himself, feeling a disgusted shudder rippling under his skin. "It's disgusting, and… And insane."

"I never said I was sane, Bix," Erik sighed. "But, I can see it… When I look at you, I know what you're thinking…"

"And what's that?"

"You're gonna leave me," Erik replied. "I told you it wasn't nothing. It's a pretty fucking big  _something_."

"I-I never said I was leaving you," Bickslow said quickly. He winced a moment later when he realized that Erik might have a point though.

"It's bad enough I'm schizophrenic, Bix. But you know I've still got PTSD, no matter how much fucking therapy I go through. And now you know I'm a murderer on top of that. Can you  _really_  see yourself sticking it out with me?"

"You make it sound like you want me gone."

"No," Erik said as he stood up and set the pillow back on the bed. "I'm just being realistic. I understand if you can't be with me now that you know about this shit, but I'm not sorry for killing that bastard, and I never will be. He fucking deserved to die for what he did to her."

"He  _deserved_  to go back to jail, Erik."

"Well, I disagree."

The two stood in silence, simply looking at one another. But Bickslow just couldn't set it all to the side and move on. There was no way in hell he could do that. The man standing in front of him looked just like Erik, just like the one he loved, but there was something so much darker in him that Bickslow hadn't known about. And there was more that he'd found out about Erik's own childhood that just had him ready to vomit.

Because Bickslow knew that Erik was barely five when he'd been brought to the orphanage. And he'd mentioned during the story that the guys that had kept him locked up had raped him. Erik had never mentioned that particular detail before, and Bickslow was sure he hadn't meant to then, either.

"I-I need some time, okay?" Bickslow finally whispered. "I've gotta think, and… And I've got a paper due soon, so…"

Erik simply nodded and moved toward the pile of clothes on the floor. "Sure," he whispered while getting dressed. "Focus on the paper, okay? Maybe we can… talk after that's done or something."

Bickslow wanted to reach out and stop his boyfriend from leaving, but found his hands weren't willing to move. And even when he could hear the man stomping his feet into his boots and walking out of the door, Bickslow was rooted to the spot. Eventually, he slowly sank to the floor, staring at the bed he and Erik shared, and wondering just how he'd been able to sleep next to a man that could murder someone so brutally, and never even know it.

* * *

After a week of spending all his free time at the library, then going home and sleeping on the couch so Bickslow could have the space he needed, Erik was at his wit's end. But he couldn't push anything. He had to be patient, and he knew that Bickslow needed time. Not for his paper - because Erik had realized while walking down the street that day that Bickslow had already turned it in the week before - but just with the new information he'd learned about Erik.

Or, about Cobra.

So the only thing that was left for him to do was to pack up a bag and write the guy a note. It was simple, because he really didn't want to make Bickslow feel guilty for what was happening. Erik knew how this was going to play out, that he was going to lose the man he loved over what he'd done.

" _Bix, I packed up a couple things to crash with Midnight. I figure you want some space, so I'll stay out of your hair. I'll have my cell on if you need me. Call me anytime. I love you. -Erik"_

He wasn't one for writing little love notes, that was more Bickslow's thing. Still, he just wanted the guy to remember that, no matter what he'd done before, Erik still loved him. His past didn't change how he felt for Bickslow, even if it did change things for the blue-haired man.

Erik showed up at Macbeth's apartment and knocked on the door, his eye downcast and his shoulders hunched in defeat. This was something he'd never really imagined having to do. Hell, Erik had never thought he'd be in a relationship with someone this long, or that it would be as serious as it was with Bickslow.

"Hey, Cobra," Macbeth chuckled while standing in the doorway. "I was just going out to meet up with Dawn."

"M-Macbeth?" Erik whispered.

Red eyes widened in surprise at the use of his name, and the small catch in Erik's voice. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"C-Can I, um… Can I st-stay here for a couple days?"

Macbeth took in Erik's posture, then the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. And as soon as his oldest friend looked up at him, and Macbeth saw that tears had broken past his lashes and started trickling down his cheek, he didn't even hesitate to act. He quickly pulled Erik inside, slamming the door shut and wrapping his arms around his friend's shaking shoulders. "What happened?"

"I-I just need a p-place to go," Erik whimpered, dropping his bag to the floor. "I-It's Bix."

"What did he do?"

Erik shook his head and felt the first muffled sob breaking past his lips. "I-I fucked up… H-He's gonna leave me!"

When Macbeth's phone rang not a moment later, he reached into his back pocket and pulled it out, tightening his grip when Erik tried to pull away. "Lucy," Macbeth whispered. "Change of plans tonight."

"What? I thought we were-"

"Can you come over? It's really important."

"Midnight," Lucy groaned. "If you're just trying to…" Her voice faded when she heard a second voice in the background.

"I-It's fine," Erik stuttered, sniffling loudly as he tried to pull away again. "I can go. Y-You have plans, a-and-"

"Erik," Macbeth scowled. "Shut up. You're not going anywhere."

"What happened to him?" Lucy gasped.

"Something about Bickslow. Can you come over?" Macbeth sighed when he heard Lucy's door slamming and the pounding of her feet before the line cut off. Apparently, she would be running over. He put his phone back in his pocket, then carefully led Erik through his apartment and over to the couch.

By the time the blonde arrived, Erik was too far into his own breakdown to answer any questions. It was the first time either of them had seen him really let loose like this, but knowing it was about Bickslow, both of them were sure something had seriously gone wrong. And while all Lucy wanted to do was call the guy and rip into him about whatever he'd done to upset Erik, that was one thing he was able to articulate.

"Don't bother Bickslow. I'm not worth it."

Just what the hell had happened to bring Erik down this far, they hadn't a clue, but both Lucy and Macbeth wanted to find out.

* * *

A solid month had gone by and Erik was still sleeping on Macbeth's couch. Well, he'd insisted that he would stay on the couch, even though Macbeth had said he didn't have a problem sharing the bed, but Erik had found out rather quickly that he just couldn't sleep without Bickslow by his side.

How he was managing to get to his classes and function, Erik wasn't entirely sure. Because one of the many things he'd left at the apartment they shared, was his medication. All five of his prescriptions. And even though Erik felt like he didn't really need to take the shit most of the time, he still did it. Antipsychotics, depression, anxiety, sleep medication... But, he'd gone a month without it, and he was realizing all over again why schizophrenics are supposed to stay on their goddamn meds.

He'd been able to manage it a little bit by finding an old bottle of his anxiety pills in the bottom of his bag, then breaking them in half to stretch out the ten pills that were most likely expired. But it wasn't doing him a whole lot of good.

He'd skipped his classes for the day and ended up just lying on the couch, staring at the television that hadn't been turned on for the past three hours. When Erik had heard the weatherman telling him that someone was watching him and waiting for him to fall asleep so they could drug him, he'd decided that it was probably for the best to keep it off.

Bickslow hadn't called him a single time in the past month. Erik had diligently checked to see if maybe he'd missed the call. He'd used Macbeth's phone in the middle of the day - when the guy was still passed out - to call himself, just to make sure it was working.

The door to the apartment opened and closed, but he didn't move. The clock said five-thirty, which meant it couldn't be Macbeth. He was still working.

A Taco Bell bag was set on the coffee table, right in his line of sight, and Erik slowly blinked when he felt Lucy tenderly lifting his head from the couch cushion. She sat down where his head had been, and he sighed while getting a little more comfortable with the new pillow she was providing him.

For a month, Lucy and Macbeth had been trying to get Erik to talk to them about what had happened, but he wouldn't say a thing about it. Any time Bickslow was mentioned, he'd just shut down. But both of them knew the signs to look out for where Erik's medication was concerned. He'd gone off of it before, and neither of them could figure out how he was still functioning as well after this much time.

Lucy had even tried talking to Gajeel, asking if he could get in touch with Bickslow to see if they could get Erik's pills from the apartment. But, from what Gajeel had told her, no one had heard from him. He wasn't answering his calls, and he wasn't going to campus for his classes. She'd heard from Levy, who had a few friends in the Graduate program working as TA's, that Bickslow had sent at least one of his professors an email saying that he had some personal matters he needed to deal with, and he wouldn't be able to make it in for classes. From what Lucy had been told, he was still turning in his work and keeping his grades up.

He'd left his keys at his and Bickslow's apartment. Lucy could only assume it was so that he wouldn't be tempted to just go back. Sitting on the dresser in Erik's bedroom was the number for his psychologist - instead of being saved in his phone - along with his prescription information, so he couldn't get a refill to tide him over until he went back home. And neither Lucy nor Macbeth knew which psychologist he was seeing now.

"Erik," she whispered. "Honey, talk to me."

"Huh?"

She lightly touched his face to draw his attention to her, smiling when he rolled onto his back. "I need to know what happened with you and him."

"Nothing," Erik said, just a little too quickly. "I didn't… Well, I did. I just… I told him what I did, and I don't blame him. I knew it'd happen once he knew, anyway."

"What are you talking about?"

"I hope he doesn't tell the cops though," Erik whimpered. "I mean, I said he could. They might already know…"

"Know about what?" Lucy frowned.

"When I killed that bastard," he sighed.

"You told Bickslow-" Lucy paused when he visibly flinched. "I mean… You told  _him_  about it?" She'd thought they already had that conversation the year before, when Bickslow had decided that his relationship with Erik was more important than his friendship with Laxus. Granted, Erik had thrown out an ultimatum, because he still held a grudge over the stunts Ivan's son had pulled with Lucy over the years, but she was positive it would have come up at some point before.

Apparently, she'd been wrong.

Erik nodded. "Everything. Even how I got rid of the body. He's gonna leave me. Lucy, if he leaves, they'll come for me…"

"You know we won't let anyone take you away, Erik," Lucy whispered. It had been a little strange the first time she'd had to do this for him, to play into his delusions so he would stay calm. But, Lucy had been taught by Kyouka and Seilah how far she could go in humoring him, and when she needed to call it quits and get professional help for him.

"But, he kept them away," he whimpered. "Bright Eyes, I heard them… They said…"

"Erik, no one's coming for you," she insisted softly. "And if they are, then we'll lock all the doors and windows. We won't let them get inside the apartment. Do you wanna help me with that?"

Erik nodded quickly and stood up, latching onto Lucy's hand with his own that shook the closer they got to the front door. "Nice and fast?"

"The faster, the better," she nodded. She moved forward and leaned against the door so no one could push it open, not that anyone was going to, then gestured for him to lock it. And once the deadbolt was turned, his hand was instantly seeking hers out again.

It took a little over ten minutes to move through Macbeth's apartment, checking all the windows and doors. Once they were finished, Lucy led Erik back over to the couch and sat him down. "It's time for you to go home, Cobra," she whispered.

"What?" he asked distractedly, glancing toward the television, then the window across the room. "Can we close the blinds, too?"

"Erik," she sighed. "You need to talk to Bick - I mean, talk to him. And you need your medicine."

"It's not poison," he nodded. "I know. I just can't take it right now."

"Why?"

"Because he's holding it hostage." Erik frowned while closing his eye, then took several deep breaths. He knew that he was acting out of the norm, and it just meant that he needed to try and focus a little more. Sometimes it worked, just stopping and taking a deep breath - or twenty - to get his thoughts on the task at hand and not what he was hearing, or how paranoid he felt. Once his eye opened again, and he looked at the blonde, he winced with embarrassment. "I sound crazy, don't I?"

"Nah," Lucy smiled tenderly. "That was mild. You were able to calm yourself down, though, so that's a plus."

"Bright Eyes, will you just cuddle with me?" he asked sadly. "He always cuddled with me…"

The blonde turned sideways on the couch, leaving enough room for him to lie down between her and the back cushions. Once he was situated, she settled in next to him and found his head lying just above her breasts.

"Is this okay?" Erik whispered.

"It's fine," Lucy said, giving him an easy smile. Before, she might have been a little hesitant to allow it, but having opened up to Macbeth a little more had also given her just a tad bit more confidence. Besides, she trusted Erik with her life.

He let out a heavy sigh as her arms wound around his shoulders. And as soon as one of Lucy's hands sunk into his hair, his eye slid closed and he found himself relaxing enough to fall asleep for the first time in days. He had no idea what sort of magic the blonde possessed, but she was able to get anyone to sleep once she was lying down with them. She was so good at helping people relax, and really, the first time Erik had laid like this with her, he'd fully understood just why Macbeth's insomnia had been no match for Lucy.

"Sweet dreams, Cobra," Lucy whispered. Her thin brows drew together when she heard his response.

"Sweet dreams… Bixy."

* * *

It had been six weeks in total since Erik had told Bickslow the truth about what he'd done. Six weeks, and Bickslow had hardly left their apartment. And in that time, between getting his assignments done and trying to remember to eat, he'd been stuck on what to do about Erik.

He didn't know where they stood, or if they could even stand in the first place. Bickslow just couldn't place the two images he had of his boyfriend together anymore; the man he knew and loved, and a cold-blooded killer that smiled at the thought of what he'd done. And every time he tried to imagine getting in touch with Erik, simply calling him to try and talk things out, Bickslow found he just couldn't do it.

Loud pounding sounded on the front door, and Bickslow tried to ignore it. Really, he did. He even put on his headphones and turned up the volume of the movie he'd been trying to watch. And still, he could hear the banging on the door.

After ten minutes had gone by, he groaned and stormed over to the stupid thing and peered through the peephole to find the back of someone's head. Covered in blonde hair. With a roll of his eyes, he unlocked the deadbolt and opened it.

"Erik, wait!" Lucy shouted.

Bickslow stumbled back into the wall as the door was slammed open, with his boyfriend shouldering past him and dashing into the apartment. "What the fuck?" Lucy rushed in and followed Erik, ignoring him for the time being.

"Erik, it's okay! They're not coming!"

"I gotta find it," Erik muttered as he crouched down on the floor in the living room. "I put it in here because they'd never get to it. Not here. They don't know it's here."

Bickslow quietly closed and locked the door, his brow furrowing as he took in the sight of Erik rummaging through the shelves of their entertainment center, tossing DVDs and a few books to the floor. Lucy crouched down at Erik's side, trying in vain to pull him away when he started in on the bookshelf in the corner.

"Erik, you need your medicine," Lucy said softly. "That's why we came over, remember?"

"It's poison," he spat, shifting away from her and letting out a triumphant laugh as his hand closed over the book. "But this isn't."

Bickslow watched with keen eyes as Erik moved until he was curled up in the corner with a large bound book in his hands. The cover was thrown open, and that was when he realized just what it was. The scrapbook Lucy had made for them just the year before, filled with pictures of him and Erik, and all their friends.

"Erik," Lucy said gently as she watched him flipping through the pages littered with pictures of himself and Bickslow. "Let's go get your pills, and then you can look at the pictures, okay? Where are they at?"

"Huh?" Erik muttered, frowning down at the page.

"Your pills," Lucy said again. "You haven't been taking them."

And that was when Bickslow realized just what was going on with his boyfriend. He'd never seen Erik like this before. The guy was adamant about staying on top of his medication. Lucy and Macbeth had told him what to look out for, but Bickslow had kind of thought they were just joking around about it. Some of the shit they'd said - like how Erik might be laughing hysterically at something only he could hear, or that he would start mumbling incoherently and think everyone understood what he was saying - had been too farfetched for Bickslow to believe it. Because, before seeing it firsthand, he just couldn't picture his boyfriend acting like... well, like he was crazy.

But he was seeing it right then, just how different the man was if he wasn't medicated. And it really was starting to freak Bickslow right the hell out. This wasn't his Erik, not in the slightest, but he couldn't just walk out on the guy when he needed help.

"I can go get them," Bickslow finally said, drawing Lucy's and Erik's attention in an instant.

Erik scowled and closed his eye, bringing a hand to his head. "Lucy, it's getting worse. I'm seeing shit."

"You're not," she whispered, sending Bickslow a quick nod. "Erik, we're at your apartment now. That's really Bickslow."

Bickslow rushed down the hallway and into the bathroom, pulling the pill box from the medicine cabinet. He didn't know which ones were which, but it was easier to bring the whole thing instead of the five fucking bottles of prescriptions his boyfriend had. As he came back to the living room, he paused when he heard what Erik was saying to Lucy.

"H-He's not real," Erik whimpered. "It was all fake, wasn't it? I-I just made him up, heard him, saw him… Lucy, he's not real…"

"Bickslow  _is_  real," Lucy frowned. She leaned forward slightly and pulled the scrapbook from Erik's lap, wrapping an arm around his shaking shoulders. "I promise you, he's real."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better. I m-made him up. Just one big hallucination, because... N-No one would want somebody like me..."

"Erik, that's just not true," Lucy sighed.

"Someone like him wouldn't love me. I'm not good enough for that. They broke me. It's fake... I know it's fake. I'm all alone, aren't I?"

"Even if Bickslow wasn't real," Lucy whispered tenderly. "Nobody 'broke' you. Everything is gonna be alright after you take your pills. But, Erik, Bickslow  _is_  real. He's getting your pills right now, and then you can start feeling better again, okay?"

"But he h-hates me… He's scared of me n-now."

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

Bickslow bit his lip and slowly moved to kneel in front of Cobra, keeping a good bit of distance between them so he wouldn't feel crowded. He already knew that his boyfriend couldn't stand being crowded when his anxiety was too high. "Erik?"

Erik shook his head, pulling his knees in closer. "I don't hear you," he whispered to himself. "I don't hear you…"

"Coby…"

"No," Erik whimpered. "You're not real."

Slowly, Bickslow moved closer, then finally reached out and laid his hand over Erik's where it was pressed to his head. "Baby, look at me. I'm real. Hallucinations can't touch you, can they?"

Erik's eye shot open at the soft, tender brush of Bickslow's thumb over his lips. "B-Bix?"

"It's me," he nodded, smiling gently. "Why don't you-" He paused when Lucy's hand stopped him from lifting the pill container. Giving the blonde a curious glance, he saw the hard look in her eyes and the short shake of her head.  _'Okay, not the time for his pills, then?'_  He thought that was what this was all about, getting Erik to take his medication.

"What?" Erik asked.

"Why don't you come here, okay?" Bickslow amended. "C'mon, let Bixy hold you." He'd never seen his lover move so fast in all their time together. Between one second and the next, Erik was uncurling from the corner and lunging forward to be wrapped in his arms.

"You won't let them take me away, right?" Erik sniffled. "I-I don't wanna go back to the basement."

"He's been having flashbacks," Lucy whispered at seeing the confusion in Bickslow's eyes. "We've been trying to call, y'know."

"My phone's been off," Bickslow said softly. He hadn't even been checking his emails, unless they were school related.

"Well, Erik left his pills here," she sighed. "He's been like this for a week now, and the only way to get him to leave Macbeth's apartment at all was to tell him we were coming here."

"Coby, what happened?" Bickslow whispered down into the head of maroon hair on his chest. He blinked in surprise when Erik simply held on tighter.

"Bix won't let me go to the ropes and cold," he whispered. "He won't… Can't find me if I'm wrapped in a blanket, though…" He paused when he felt warm lips pressing against the top of his head, his eye closing and a deep frown turning down his lips. After several deep breaths, with the beating of a heart so close to his pointed ear, Erik slowly said, "I need... pills..."

"Which one?" Bickslow asked softly.

"Anxiety. The orange one. And… The little green one that has a GG on it."

Bickslow opened the pill box, then handed it to Lucy to find the ones Erik needed. Within seconds, the pills were in Bickslow's hand and he was carefully bringing them to his boyfriend's lips. "Need water?"

Erik quickly shook his head while swallowing the pills. He was used to this, after all. He just had to slow down again, to figure out which words to put together so it made sense to everyone else.  _'I hate this... I hate this so much... I just wanna be normal.'_

"What's the green one?" Bickslow whispered.

"You don't know what pills Erik takes?" Lucy frowned.

"I never told him," Erik replied. "The green one's an antipsychotic. It won't work right away, but I need to start back up on it. That's what the anxiety one is for."

Lucy sighed and looked at the couple in front of her. First Erik, who was trying so hard to hold himself together while Bickslow sorted everything out, and clearly failing. Then Bickslow, who looked like he hadn't shaved in a month. It seemed neither of them were dealing with things very well without each other. She was at a loss for what to do, considering the blonde hadn't planned on Erik ending up in Bickslow's arms, but by then maybe that's what really needed to happen.

"Coby," Bickslow whispered.

"Hm?"

"We need to talk some things out."

Erik nodded slowly. "Can it wait? Now's  _really_  not a good time. Meds need to kick in so the salad stops."

"Salad?" Bickslow frowned.

"Word salad," Lucy answered when Erik let out a slow, soothing breath. "Schizophrenics can sometimes get their words all jumbled up. It makes sense to him, what he's talking about, because it  _is_  connected somehow, but to everyone else it's just mumbo-jumbo."

"Usually stops if I've got the orange," Erik whispered. "I mean... orange  _pill_... Anxiety..."

"Oh. Well yeah... We can talk later, but… Will you…" Bickslow sighed and glanced at Lucy before looking down at Erik again. "Will you at least come home?"

"I don't really have a-"

"Erik," Bickslow frowned. "Please, come home. We'll talk when it's a good time, but for now just… I miss you."

He hadn't meant to say that, but there was no taking it back. Technically, he did miss Erik. But Bickslow didn't need the guy getting the wrong idea. They needed to talk, and Bickslow still needed to figure out whether or not they were going to stay together. He could definitely tell that now wasn't a good time for them to hash all that out though, because it could end up with Bickslow talking and Erik unable to actually articulate a response.

And that just made him uncomfortable. Because the Erik he knew and fell in love with was always articulate. He was smart and funny and confident. Not like this.

Lucy smiled when Erik's eye opened to look at her, and she gave him an encouraging nod. He was still welcome to stay with Macbeth, but they all knew he wanted to be here more than anywhere else.

"I-I can come back home?" Erik whispered.

"You never had to leave in the first place," Bickslow answered instantly. It had been quite the shock for him to come home from class to find the note left on the table. The apartment just felt empty without his one-eyed bundle of sarcasm. The DVR had filled up, because Bickslow couldn't bring himself to watch any of their shows without getting to hear Erik's commentary.

They had the entirety of  _Fiore's Got Talent_  to get through. There was no way Bickslow was going to miss out on seeing Erik smiling and left speechless when some little kid belted out the most beautiful fucking aria.

Lucy quietly said her goodbyes, reminding Bickslow and Erik to call her and Macbeth if they needed anything, and that she would do his laundry before bringing his stuff back over.

And for a long while after the blonde was gone, Erik simply stayed curled up in Bickslow's arms. He didn't want to be anywhere else, that was for damn sure.

His eye cut down to the scrapbook that was sitting on the floor, still open and showing a picture of himself and Bickslow cuddling on the couch in their boxers. He remembered when that was taken. They'd been playing a new fighting game, and Bickslow had gotten his ass handed to him the entire night. And still, they were both smiling. Laughing.

Things were easy for them in that picture. Simple. And now everything had been thrown into a fucking blender.

"I didn't want to go," Erik finally whispered when he felt sure that his anxiety pill was working. "I just thought it'd be easier for you, if you didn't have to see me all the time."

"I thought you weren't ready to talk," Bickslow frowned. Did he want to talk it all out? Definitely, but if it needed to get put on hold until Erik was in a better headspace, then that was what they needed to do. The only catch was that he knew they couldn't really do a whole lot of anything until both of them knew just where they stood.

"We need to," Erik sighed. He didn't try to pull away though, because the only thing that was really helping to keep him in the present was having Bickslow right there, holding him. "If we're like this, we can talk. I should be fine like this. Is that… okay?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "It's okay." He shifted and leaned against the wall, with his legs on either side of the maroon-haired man in his arms. "But, I don't know. I mean, it was really lonely without you here."

Erik nodded in silence. There really wasn't a whole lot that he could say, no matter how much he wanted to just beg Bickslow for the chance to prove that he was the same person as before. It fell to his boyfriend to make that choice. Whether or not he trusted Erik, whether he felt safe enough to continue their relationship. And now that the guy had seen him like this - something that Erik had really never wanted Bickslow to see in the first place - he was even less hopeful that they would be staying together.

"How were things over at Macbeth's?" Bickslow asked softly.

Erik shrugged. "Weird. And I felt like an ass for being there when Lucy was visiting. Cock Block Cobra should be my new fucking name."

"Nah," Bickslow smirked. "I doubt they were thinking about that."

"Maybe…"

The two fell into an awkward silence for several long minutes, with Erik simply waiting to see where they were at, and Bickslow unsure of what he should do, or say. And partly waiting for Erik to throw something out there for him to respond to.

"Are we…" Erik closed his eye and sighed. "Are we still…"

"I don't know," Bickslow answered.

"I don't wanna lose you, Bix. I'm so scared you're gonna disappear."

"I don't want to lose you either, Erik," he frowned. "But, I just… That's some seriously dark shit you did. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that."

"Lucy said I should have told you about it before. When that Laxus thing was going on…"

Bickslow remembered that day extremely well. When he'd been forced to choose between his best friend of nearly five years, and his boyfriend of a year. It hadn't been an easy choice then, and there were times that he wondered if it was a sign that things were only going to get more difficult for the two of them, but he'd chosen Erik in the end.

And he'd done that because he was in love. Even when he'd gone to talk to Laxus to tell him what was going on, Bickslow had been adamant about staying with Erik.

_*.*_

" _Laxus, we gotta talk, man."_

" _What's up?"_

" _Well… You know how I'm dating Erik now…"_

_Laxus scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know," he said flatly._

" _And I know you've got some shit between you."_

" _That little fucker broke my fucking nose," Laxus spat. "He was trying to kill me."_

" _I get that," Bickslow nodded. "And I don't know all the details about what happened, so I'm not taking sides. That's between the two of you. But, the thing is… Erik doesn't like that I'm hanging out with you."_

" _So? Go tell that psychotic shitbox to go fuck himself."_

" _Laxus," Bickslow scowled. "Don't talk about my boyfriend that way."_

" _I still can't believe you're even dating the guy in the first place. I mean, you were straight as an arrow before he came around."_

" _You don't have a problem with Freed being gay."_

" _And I don't care if you wanna fuck dudes either," Laxus shrugged. "It's just… Him… I don't get it."_

" _I love him."_

" _Even though he's insane?"_

" _He's not insane."_

" _Bix, the guy's been baker acted three times. That's fucking insane. And his friends aren't much better. Macbeth's a narcoleptic diva, and Blondie… Don't even get me started on her."_

" _I don't get why you hate them so much," Bickslow said, his brows drawing together. "What did they ever do to you? I mean, Macbeth's actually really funny when he's awake - which, he's just a night owl. And Lucy's, like, the sweetest person ever."_

" _You do realize all three of them got sent to that orphanage because it's run by psychologists, right?" Laxus asked. "Bix, they're insane. Hell, they never got adopted, because they're all batshit crazy."_

" _Laxus-"_

" _No, you've been screwing around with that kid for a year, but I bet you don't know a damn thing about him," Laxus said, his lip curling in disgust. "It's better if you get out now, before he drags you into his crazy little delusions. I mean, come on-"_

" _Laxus!" Bickslow shouted. "Shut the hell up about Erik!"_

" _Why should I?"_

" _Because he's my fucking boyfriend, and I love him, okay?"_

" _And I bet he gave you a damn ultimatum. 'Laxus or me,' right?" Laxus sneered. "Because the schizo wants you all to himself!"_

_Bickslow sighed and stood up from his friend's couch, setting the beer he'd hardly touched on the coffee table. "He did give me an ultimatum. And I hated it until I got here and started talking to you."_

" _What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"_

" _It means, I'm choosing Erik. I'm not gonna listen to you or anyone else talk shit about him. I know he had it rough growing up, and when he wants to talk to me about that, he will. But, I'm never going to judge who he is now based on what happened to him before. Or the things he did before."_

" _What if he killed someone?" Laxus asked, coming to his feet and crossing his arms over his chest. "Murdered them in cold blood. Would you still be with him?"_

_Bickslow rolled his eyes at that. "He's not a murderer, Laxus."_

" _Hypothetically, if he was… Then what?"_

" _Then, I'd want to know why he did it. And, if there was actually a good reason for it, I'd still stay with him."_

" _Bix, the crazy's already rubbing off on you."_

_Bickslow shook his head and turned toward the door. "You don't get it," he sighed. "I love you, Laxus. You're one of my best friends, but my relationship with Erik is more important. I'm choosing him, so… Bye."_

" _Bix! Wait!"_

_Bickslow walked out of the apartment, and never looked back._

_*.*_

"Erik?" Bickslow whispered as he came back to himself.

"Yeah?"

"You murdered him for Lucy, right?"

"I did. He took everything away from her, all because of the shit that made her an orphan to begin with…"

"Would you… ever do something like that again?"

"Only under extremely extenuating circumstances," Erik answered. He wasn't going on any killing sprees. Even though he still dreamt about the night he'd killed Macbeth's dad, and usually woke up with a smile on his face from it, Erik didn't want to kill anyone. "Someone had to stick up for her. And the shit he did to Midnight before… The fucker tried to kill his own son… He never should have gotten out of prison in the first place."

"Let's say something happened to… I don't know… Natsu. Would you?"

"No."

"Then what would have to happen for you to go killing someone?"

Erik sighed and slowly lifted his head to look into Bickslow's eyes. When he saw that same look from before - the one that let him know that his boyfriend was just trying to work through what he was hearing - he whispered, "If someone hurts my family, the ones I love, I won't hold back. I might not kill them, but I'll make them regret ever even  _thinking_  about it."

"So, Lucy and Midnight."

"Probably Gajeel, too," he shrugged. "We're pretty close now." He paused and bit his lip. "And you."

"I don't want you to kill anyone for me."

"Bix, let's say you got into an accident. Something really fucked up happened to you. Or… If you died. If someone ever hurt you, I'd lose it," Erik said in earnest. "Because, even if it makes me sound like a damn serial killer, I'd enjoy torturing the one that hurt you. I don't have that many people that love me, that want me to be happy and safe now. You're one of those people, so for me, I have to keep you safe, too. To take care of you."

"Erik…"

"I know, it sounds stupid," he sighed. "I just really love you, Bix. And I really love Lucy. I couldn't let him get away with it, not when I had the means to do something about it. I just have to feel like I'm taking care of you guys, somehow. Even if I'm an asshole all the time, I…"

Bickslow pressed his fingers to Erik's lips, silencing him in an instant. "I get that," he finally whispered. "So, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because it wasn't my secret to tell," Erik answered. "I only did that because of what happened to Lucy, and she doesn't need people knowing that about her. It took her almost a year to even try talking to me about what happened."

"Do you have any other secrets that I don't know about?" Bickslow asked.

"Not including..."

"Nothing before the orphanage," Bickslow nodded. "That's different."

"Then, no. That's the only thing I kept from you…"

Bickslow nodded, his fingers drifting across Erik's cheek to lightly toy with one of his earrings. He watched the smaller man pick up his pill box after looking at the clock, then emptied the rest of the pills for that day into his hand. He took them one by one, and Bickslow simply waited. He'd never seen Erik doing this before, even though they'd been living together for several months already. It was just something that Bickslow knew he did, and that it was helping him.

He knew that even better now than he had before.

"I hate people watching me take pills," Erik said after gulping down the last one. He had to fight the compulsion to open his mouth and show Bickslow that he'd actually swallowed it. Being locked up in an institution a few times had made sure he learned that, and it had taken months for Lucy and Macbeth to break the habit after he was released every time.

"Oh. Sorry…"

"That's why I don't talk about them with you. I just want to be more normal."

"Erik," Bickslow sighed, shaking his head. "There's nothing wrong with it. So you have a couple issues that you're managing. Everyone's fucked in the head, in some way."

"Even you?"

And that was when Bickslow found himself smiling. "Even me."

He knew there was no turning away from Erik. Bicklsow was already too far in love with the guy to ever really let him go. They'd spent their time apart, Bickslow had considered everything he could, and all that was left was forcing himself to move past it. That shit was in the past, from before they had even met. It was a one-time thing, and he knew that now. And now he had a much better understanding of the man that had captured his heart. He'd seen many of Erik's lows, especially in the middle of the night when he had a nightmare, but now he'd seen something more. How real his boyfriend's struggle was with mental illness. And it made Bickslow all the more determined to stick it out with him.

Erik gasped as Bickslow's arms shot around his waist, pulling him flush against that broad, muscular chest. "What…"

"Because, I've  _gotta_  be crazy."

"Why's that?" Erik moaned when their lips met in a slow, passionate caress. "B-Bix?"

"We're good, baby," Bickslow whispered against his lips. "I feel like I'm losing my mind without you, but…"

"You think you're just as crazy for staying with me?" Erik chuckled.

"Exactly."

A long, low groan left him when Bickslow's tongue teased his lips into parting. And even though Erik wanted nothing more than to keep going, and to have his boyfriend carry him into the room and lay him out on their bed, they needed to stop. "Bixy, wait."

"Mm-mm," he mumbled.

"Can't do this," Erik laughed. "Not yet."

Bickslow drew back, grinning as their noses brushed together. "How come," he whispered.

"Because I just took my meds. I can talk and focus a little more, but... Just give me until tomorrow?" He bit his lip as Bickslow's smile faded slightly. "I want to," Erik sighed. "But it's just... too soon after being like that. I should be fine by tomorrow, though."

"Tomorrow it is, then," Bickslow nodded, his eyes softening with understanding. There were plenty of times where they'd needed to put the physical side of their relationship on hold for Erik's sake, and not once had he had an issue with it. Erik hated it, but Bickslow understood, to a point. Instead, he gently grabbed Erik's hand, lacing their fingers together and bringing his lover's knuckles to his lips. "I think I like being a little crazy, baby. With a prescription like you, I love it."

"You're fucking retarded," Erik laughed.

"Nope, I only fuck geniuses," Bickslow said, laughing right along with his tanned lover. "But, if you wanna see some retards, the box is full of our 'stories'."

"Oh god," Erik groaned playfully. "Talent shows, here we come." And even though things weren't completely fixed between the two, Erik felt like they were well on their way to being happy again. It would take some time, and he was sure things would be a little rocky - because he knew that Bickslow wasn't just going to accept everything so easily - but they'd manage.

So, the two slowly got up from the floor, not even bothering to clean up the mess Erik had made while searching for the scrapbook, and found themselves cuddled up together on the couch, wrapped in a king-sized, fuzzy, fleece blanket they'd gotten as a gift from Macbeth (who was, rightfully so, the master of blanket-choosing). The television was turned on, the show set to play, and Erik and Bickslow just let themselves enjoy being together again.

 


	10. The New Tamashi

Erik is 31. Bickslow is 33. Angela is 5.

* * *

Bickslow's eyes shot open in astonishment, and he stared down the length of his body to the blanket that was covering his hips. Warm lips moved over his arousal. The tongue he knew so well circled his tip before sliding down his shaft. A long, gravelly moan barreled past his lips when he dipped into his lover's throat. "Mmm… Morning, sexy," he hummed, nibbling his lip when there was a soft hum of acknowledgement. "Fuck, it's like Christmas in your mouth…"

Erik chuckled and nipped at the tip before diving down again.

Bickslow gasped when more suction than normal was added as Erik began bobbing quickly. "Sh-Shit! What the f-fuck…" Bickslow lifted the blanket and found himself entranced by the sight of that single indigo eye looking up at him with unbridled lust. His husband's head nearly bouncing off of his pelvis, with that perfect fucking mouth on a mission to unravel him in mere minutes. Erik's maroon hair was slightly damp from a recent shower, hanging down over his eyebrows and just begging for Bickslow's hands to tangle in it. There wasn't time though, not with the havoc that was being wrought on him right then.

Faster and faster, Erik moved. Bickslow watched his eye roll back as his shaft went rigid. This was his lover's favorite part, after all. "E-Erik," he whimpered. "Lemme see, baby…"

Erik pulled away quickly, grinning as his hand replaced his mouth. His lips parted and his tongue slithered out, drawing tight circles around Bickslow's flared head, dipping under the ridge for only a moment while he brought his lover to his end.

Bickslow's gaze was fixed on that mouth. Those pointed teeth that would scrape over his sensitive flesh nearly hard enough to cause him pain. The full lips that were swollen and glistening with saliva. The hot, panting breaths puffing out over his turgid length, showing just how excited Erik was as well. The lithe, pink muscle that was causing his control to fray faster than usual as it teased him right to the edge. "Shit… Oh, shit!" he groaned loudly as his maroon-haired lover dove down, briefly pushing his cock to the back of his throat before pulling back up and opening his mouth again. "Coby, I'm… Fu… Ngh… "

"Good," Erik growled. "Cum all over me, Bixy." He lifted a finger to his mouth quickly, then gave Bickslow a dark, wicked grin as he lowered it to the tender flesh of his sac. Just as he felt the first pulse traveling up the length held in his hand, his finger dipped down between those deliciously rounded cheeks and pushed into him, then hooked upwards.

"Erik!" Bickslow screamed as that finger brushed over the sweetest spot known to man inside of him. He couldn't look away. This was exactly what he'd wanted to see. "Oh, Jesus fuck!" Each and every thick shot that flew toward the open and waiting mouth, landing on the extended tongue, disappearing further into that warm cavern, the few drops that missed their mark and instead fell to his chin and scar-covered cheek. "O-Oh god," Bickslow moaned as Erik's mouth closed over him again, diving down to the base of his shaft and working in time with his hand to squeeze out every last drop. He found himself whimpering and writhing helplessly, a full-body shudder running through him when that slender digit was quickly pulled out of his ass. "F-Fuck, I love you!"

Erik swallowed slowly as he lifted his head, a smug grin on his face as he rubbed his hands over the bare, muscular thighs lying on either side of his body. He loved that his husband never wore a stitch of clothing to bed. It always made mornings like this one ten times easier. He emerged from beneath the blanket, letting his chest brush over the muscled body beneath him, then chuckled when a shaky hand was brought to the nape of his neck.

Bickslow swiped his tongue across the stray, milky droplets on Erik's face with a lazy smile, then sighed into the slow kiss as their tongues danced, letting his husband pull it all from him. "Happy birthday, Coby," he whispered with a small chuckle.

"The day's just starting," Erik whispered back.

"Well, I hope that wasn't what you wanted for your present… You did all the work."

"Nope. I just felt like having your dick in my mouth." Erik sighed and rolled to the side, lying down on the bed next to his husband of nearly five years. "But, there's something I wanna talk to you about, actually…"

Bickslow rolled with him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling that deliciously tanned chest to his. "Talk away. I'm more than awake enough for the serious as hell shit you're about to lay on me."

Erik worried his lip between his teeth. "Serious?"

Bickslow nodded. "You think I don't know when there's something on your mind?" he whispered with a small smile. "Every time you're thinking about something serious, you clam up for a few days. And then I get woken up with you mandhandling my dick… Not that I'm complaining about  _that_  though." When Erik rolled his eye, Bickslow chuckled and tenderly kissed him. "Tell your hubby what's up."

Erik took a slow, steadying breath, then looked into the eyes that had drawn him in as soon as they met all those years ago. "I… N-Not for my birthday, because that would be really fucked up, but… I um…"

Bickslow fought to suppress a wide grin when he saw Erik's cheeks flaring to life, the light hint of pink dusting across his caramel skin. "You're so cute when you're uncomfortable," he chuckled.

Erik huffed. "Fuckin' dildo…"

"Nah," Bickslow replied. "That's what  _you'll_  be doing later."

Erik choked for half a second, then narrowed his eye and nipped at the tattoo Bickslow had gotten over his heart - one that was identical to his single indigo eye, and in the same place as the tattoo on his own chest of Bickslow's eye. "Very funny."

"I thought so. C'mon. What's up, Doctor Cobra?"

"Well, I was talking to Bright Eyes and Midnight," Erik said slowly.

"Mm-hmm?"

"And they found out what's up with her not getting pregnant, even though they've been trying for the past few years."

"Right. They told us last night," Bickslow said softly. The fact that Lucy wasn't fertile because of something that should have been caught a long time ago hadn't just affected herself and Macbeth. It affected everyone in their family. The couple themselves, himself and Erik, Gajeel and his second wife, Juvia, Natsu and Flare, Mard and Mira. Everyone in their extended family was feeling the weight of that news.

"Right," Erik nodded. "But, I called this morning and… She told me something. I never thought about it before, but… I um… I wanna do it. And, I just figured I'd talk to you about it, y'know? See where you stand on shit like this and… W-Well… I mean if you don't want to, then I get it, and I won't be angry or anything… So… Um..."

Bickslow laughed again, pulling his flustered husband closer and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Erik. Baby… You're not really telling me anything here. What is it that you wanna do?"

"Adopt," Erik whispered without a moment's hesitation. "I want a kid, Bix… I-I wanna be a dad…"

Bickslow froze completely, well and truly gaping at the man in his arms. "You… What?!" He'd never thought that Erik would be remotely interested in having kids. It wasn't like the two of them could do any of that male pregnancy shit that those crazy fanfiction weirdos wrote about all the time - not that he really  _wanted_  to go through that in the first place. But, there were a few options out there for gay couples. Finding a surrogate mother. Or adoption.

Lucy, before finding out that she couldn't have kids at all, had openly offered to both himself and Erik to be a surrogate mother. She'd said that, if they ever decided they wanted kids, she was more than willing to make it so they had one. Hell, Macbeth hadn't even minded in the slightest. All he'd done was said that he had first dibs on her uterus.

But Lucy had been taken out of the running - if there ever really was one - for that role because of the cysts on her ovaries. Which left finding some stranger to do it, and he knew that wouldn't happen because of Erik's trust issues. Or…

"A-Adopt?!" Bickslow asked incredulously. When the hell had his husband decided that he wanted kids? Was it really that recently? Lucy already went through the surgery to have her ovaries removed, and was in the process of healing before she and Macbeth told anyone. He and Erik were the first ones on the list of people to call, and they'd only heard about it the night before. But, was this something he was thinking about because of Lucy and Macbeth? Or had he been thinking about it for a while?

"Well, yeah," Erik said uncomfortably. "I mean… If you wanted to… And I know we never really talked about kids, aside from when Bright Eyes offered to be our baby factory a couple years back. So, I um… I figured we could… uh… Talk about it now?"

"You… Wow," Bickslow said with wide eyes. "I didn't think you even  _liked_  kids."

"Because I don't," Erik answered with a scowl. "They're a bunch of disgusting assholes."

Bickslow chuckled. "And yet, you wanna adopt one." The pout that was directed at him had his smile widening into a full grin. It wasn't often he got to see this face on his husband, but it was absolutely precious when it happened. He leaned down and captured Erik's lower lip between his teeth, giving him a quick bite before gently sucking on it. "Don't you stick that lip out at me, young man," he chuckled around that little bit of flesh.

"You're  _two_  years older, asshole…"

"Which makes you a young man in comparison to me."

Erik rolled his eye and sighed. "Your breath reeks, Bix."

"That's because I just woke up. Your mouth tastes like jizz and toothpaste."

"Because I gave you a blowjob  _after_  brushing my teeth. You're fucking welcome."

Bickslow grinned and fully kissed the smaller man, his arms pulling Erik closer while their legs tangled beneath the blanket. "Mmm," he hummed. "Well thank you, birthday boy. Now, about this kid thing… What's going on? Why the sudden interest, Coby?"

After a moment, Erik whispered, "I just… Bix, I never had a family when I was growing up. I was never even given a chance. No one wanted me because I was fucked in the head…"

"But you found Macbeth and Lucy there. They're your family now, just like I am."

"Right, but…" He paused and looked up to see Bickslow smiling softly down at him. "But I want some kid to have the chance I never got. You lived with your mom, then your grandma, until you moved out. I didn't have that. And I know just how fucking lonely it is, feeling like no one's ever gonna give a shit about you…"

Bickslow sighed and brushed Erik's hair from his face. "And talking with Cosplayer made you think about it?"

Erik nodded. "They're thinking about adopting when she's all healed up. She said that she called the ladies that ran our old orphanage. Apparently they're still going strong, even though they're pushing sixty now."

Bickslow blinked slowly. "You want to go there, don't you?" he whispered as realization hit. "Find a kid like you were?"

"Special," Erik whispered sadly. "That's what Seilah and Kyouka called us. Just a nicer way of saying 'This kid is royally fucked in the head and he's never gonna leave'... Midnight and Bright Eyes are like me though… We watched a bunch of the others get adopted. A couple came back once or twice, but… No one ever tried to meet us. It just made us fucking pariahs. Some goddamn outcasts…"

"Hey," Bickslow whispered, gently stroking Erik's hair and shoulders when he started trembling, "I get it, baby. I get it…" No matter how much time had passed since leaving the orphanage, Erik still had issues because of it. If his life before going there wasn't bad enough, then the fact that he'd never even gotten a chance at finding parents to really love him threw it right over the edge into full blown fucked up.

"Do you even want kids?" Erik asked, his voice soft and timid. Talking to Lucy had really only cemented in his mind that it was time to start their own family. Erik had been thinking about it for years. Even before he'd met Bickslow. He knew that, if he ever settled down and got married, he wanted at least one child to be adopted. Considering he always thought he would settle down with a woman, that was his plan. Until Bickslow came along. He couldn't have been happier with the sapphire-haired stud in his life, and it wasn't like they really had a void to fill or anything like that. He just wanted a family. To be the dad that he never had growing up, and to give some 'special, fucked in the head, you'll never get adopted otherwise,' kid a shot at having the life he always dreamt of.

Bickslow grinned at that. Did he want kids? "Hell yes," he said happily. "I always wanted kids with you, Coby."

Erik blinked in surprise. "Y-You… Huh?"

"I said I always wanted kids with you," Bickslow laughed. "I just figured you didn't want them, so I didn't bring it up." The look of sheer surprise on his husband's face was washed away in an instant, as soon as the words had time to sink in, apparently. In its place was the widest and most ecstatic, boyish grin Bickslow had ever seen. One that rivalled the day he'd asked Erik to marry him, and their wedding day.

Erik laughed happily, then lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his husband and burying his face in the crook of Bickslow's neck. "I love you so fucking much!" He was on the verge of squealing, just like Lucy (still) did when she was overly excited. It was official. He was never making fun of her for that high-pitched, deafening noise again, because now he understood its use entirely. "Fuck, Bix… You… I-I… I fucking love you!"

"I love you, too." Bickslow laughed and pulled Erik's arms from around him, then promptly rolled the smaller man onto his back. With a devious grin, and his tongue hanging from his mouth, he leaned down and whispered, "Just you wait, baby… You're gonna love me a whole lot more real soon."

Erik's eye rolled back when Bickslow's tongue flicked across his ear, then slithered down the column of his throat. He gulped, and moaned softly when those long, dexterous fingers dipped beneath the band of his boxer briefs, lifting his hips slightly and shivering as the fabric was pulled slowly down his thighs.

Bickslow tossed the only stitch of clothing that was keeping him from feeling every mouthwatering inch of his husband's skin across the room. His eyes flashed with excitement when he saw the thick arousal already weeping with need. "Aww," he purred. "Coby, you're so hard…"

Erik chuckled and pulled Bickslow's head down, groaning softly when those wide lips surrounded his flared head. "Course I am," he whispered, hissing in pleasure as Bickslow's tongue wrapped around his cock. "Have you  _met_  my husband?"

Bickslow lifted his head with another grin, looking from the tattoo just above Erik's arousal that named him property of Lucy, over his sinfully delectable muscles, pausing at the tattoo over his heart of his own swirly-cornered, red and green eye, and finally landing on the striking features of his face. "Touche. I can't keep my hands off of mine…" He crawled up Erik's body, then slowly straddled those slim, caramel hips. With a soft smile, he leaned down and captured Erik's lips in a tender caress while lining the thick member up at his entrance. It wasn't often that they would switch like this, but every once in awhile was fine by him. Erik gripped his hips and slowly pushed his body down, filling him just perfectly. Bickslow let out a breathy moan once they were fully joined, then opened his eyes and whispered, "Happy birthday, Erik."

* * *

Two weeks had gone by since Erik's birthday, and now he was holding Bickslow's hand as tightly as he possibly could as they walked up the main steps to the entrance of the place he'd grown up. It was a place he hadn't thought he would ever return to, but now that he thought about it… He should have known better. If he was ever going to adopt a child, this was the place he would go. Back to the women that had cared for him when he would have just been thrown into a mental institution otherwise.

"You okay, Erik?" Bickslow whispered as he held the door open for his husband. "You seem really tense."

Erik nodded quickly. "Just memories, Bix." He sighed when an arm was draped over his shoulders, pulling him closer to the only one that could make him feel comforted right then. His head rested against the deep purple dress shirt, and he focused on the smell of Bickslow's cologne, and the steady beating of his heart. "It looks exactly the same," he whispered. "Well, it's a little better."

Bickslow smiled down at the top of Erik's head then looked around as they made their way toward the reception desk. It was a pretty nice place. Great architecture, modern and comfortable furnishings, well-lit and an overall homey feel. It wasn't like some huge clinic, like he'd thought. There were pictures on the walls of children that had been adopted, smiling with their happy families, and even more pictures that were obviously drawn by kids. "It's nice," he whispered back. "You tell me if we need to leave though, okay?"

Erik nodded again, a little slower this time, then pulled away from Bickslow when they reached the reception desk. He paused and looked over the receptionist for only a moment, then said, "Erik and Bickslow Tamashi. We've got an appointment at three with Kyouka."

The receptionist nodded. "I'll let her know you're here," she said while lifting a phone from its receiver. "Please, have a seat and she'll be right with you."

Bickslow laced his fingers with Erik's and walked away from the desk, then started looking around at all of the pictures on the walls. While there were plenty of images of kids with their new families, there were also several boards that just had pictures of children. Playing on the playground, covered in paint and smiling, girls braiding each others' hair. Hell, there were even a few of girls that were pregnant, then more of them holding their babies after they were born. It seemed like this place was one where they weren't ashamed of a damn thing. No matter what happened, he could see how happy the kids were.

Erik froze and stared in shock as a picture caught his eye. When Bickslow turned to look at him curiously, he whispered, "Well… I looked like a total fucking asshole as a kid."

Bickslow chuckled and turned his attention to the picture in question. His smile softened as he looked at the trio of seven-year-olds. Macbeth sat on one side of a couch, his head leaning on the shoulder of the young blonde next to him as he slept; without an ounce of makeup on. Lucy was in the center with her scabbed up knees pulled up to her chest, her eyes closed and her head lying on top of Macbeth's. Erik sat on the other side of her, with his indigo eyes glaring vehemently at the camera; with one hand being held by Lucy. "Oh my god, you guys were precious," he whispered with a small laugh.

"Fuck you," Erik grumbled.

"Look at you though… And your ears…" Bickslow was on the verge of downright cooing. The pictures of the Erik, Lucy, and Macbeth from their childhood were tightly sealed in some secret lair in Macbeth and Lucy's home. He'd never realized that his husband had pointed ears even when he was a kid. Honestly, Bickslow thought those sexy little elf-tips were from a surgery he'd had before they met. He'd never asked why Erik had done it, but he was definitely fine with it. Especially when he was able to just breathe on them, and make his lover quiver with desire.

"Yeah," Erik sighed. "They did that to me before the raid. I was already healed up by the time they found me, so the doctors didn't try to fix it."

Bickslow blinked in surprise, staring down at his husband. "You mean…"

Erik nodded. "Apparently, buyers like exotic kids. What's more exotic than someone with dark skin like mine and fucking elf ears…"

Bickslow shook his head and lightly squeezed Erik's hand. There were still tons of things he was learning about Erik's past, even though they'd known each other, and had been a couple, for almost twelve years already. He never pushed it though, because he knew that Erik would tell him things whenever he was ready, or when he thought about them. "Well, I love them, Cobra," he whispered tenderly.

A soft, feminine laugh from behind the two men as they shared a chaste kiss drew their attention. "People are still calling you that, Erik?" Kyouka asked as they turned to face her.

Erik rolled his eye, smirking at the older woman. "Of course they are. You think I'd give up a nickname I got from Bright Eyes?" He pulled his hand from Bickslow's and closed the distance between himself and Kyouka, giving her a small hug. She definitely looked surprised by it, but returned it nonetheless. "Shit, did you even age?" he chuckled. "You look the fucking same."

Kyouka's bright blue eyes softened as he pulled away. "Didn't you know?" she laughed. "Seilah and I are immortal demons from Tartarus. It's the only way we've been able to keep the hellions in line. Especially the ones like you and Gajeel."

Bickslow laughed along with Erik, then stuck out his hand when she turned to look him over. "Doctor Bickslow Tamashi. I've heard a good bit about you."

Her hand closed over his, and she eyed him critically. "I'm sorry to say I haven't heard a thing about you, dear. But…" She watched out of the corner of her eye as Erik's hand slid into Bickslow's once the handshake ended, then smiled. "I can say it's most definitely a pleasure to meet you. Now, let's go to my office and we'll get this meeting under way."

The two men followed behind her down a hall off to the side, then past a heavy oak door into her office. Once the three were seated, Erik rubbed his hands together and nervously nibbled his lower lip. "So, we're looking into adopting," he said as she pulled a thick folder from a filing cabinet.

"I assumed as much," Kyouka said. "And you're both sure about going this route? Have you looked into surrogacy?"

Bickslow smiled sadly. "Well, Lucy would have been our choice for doing that, but…"

"She can't have children," Kyouka sighed. "Yes, she called us a couple weeks ago and told us the news."

"Did she talk to you guys about wanting to adopt?" Erik asked.

"Once she's recovered from surgery, she and Macbeth will be coming by," she answered with a nod. After a moment, she furrowed her brow. "Are you sure this is something you really want?"

Bickslow and Erik nodded. "Definitely," they said in unison.

Kyouka smiled then and opened the file in her hands. "Well, we have plenty of children here. And you two have already filled out all of the paperwork that we need. So now I just need to know what you're looking for."

Bickslow frowned. "What we're looking for?" he asked.

Kyouka nodded. "Do you have any preferences? Gender, age, race… Is there anything you won't want? Mental illness, disabilities… Things like that."

Erik's mouth clamped shut in an instant, and Bickslow's frown deepened. "Seriously?" he asked softly. "No offense, ma'am… But… What the fuck?"

Kyouka sighed. "It's not like what you're thinking. There are plenty of people that would like to adopt children, and when they're approved for it, we have to keep the needs of the child in mind. If you don't feel that you can properly care for a child with, say… Bipolar II Disorder, then we need to be aware of that. It's for the safety of the children more than what the adopters are looking for." She turned to look at Erik, and saw that he had completely shut down. "Erik…"

"It's fine," he muttered. "I get it…"

"It's not that there weren't people wanting to adopt you," Kyouka said earnestly. "It's just-"

"No, I get it," Erik said flatly. "No one wants a kid that hears voices, or has night terrors, or attacks people when they get too close and can't be touched, or refuses to talk to people, or starts screaming their damn face off when they see knives or cigarettes or rope… Really, I understand…"

Bickslow's brow furrowed and he gently grabbed Erik's hand, running his thumb over the back of it. He knew from experience that Erik had tons of issues from when he was a kid. He was still plagued with a good portion of them, even to this day. Still, he hated hearing the pain in his husband's voice. "So, if there were people wanting to adopt him," he said slowly, "How come it never happened?"

"Every time someone agreed to meet with Erik," Kyouka sighed, "We did a more thorough background check on the applicant. Just like with every other child with similar circumstances. Every single time…" She shook her head and stared down at her hands. "Seilah and I found something that was questionable. We couldn't place you in a home with someone that had a police record, or a history of violence. No homes with basements. The adopters needed to be stable, reliable. More so than if they were trying to adopt one of the other children."

Erik glared at her. "So, you two are the reason then?"

Kyouka shook her head. "One man came in with his wife, and they were adamant about adopting you. Seilah looked into who they were, and found out that they were associated with the ones that…"

Erik paled.

"They appeared perfectly normal, and we almost did agree to let them meet with you. But when she found that… We confronted them about it, and they left. They never came back…" Kyouka sighed. "I can only assume they were trying to get you back, Erik. We wanted to make sure that, whoever your future parents were going to be… They had to be able to deal with the issues you had, while also being good parents.  _Your_  safety is what Seilah and I cared about the most. We loved having you here with us, and we knew that you were getting all the care you needed, but we did want you to get adopted. It just never worked out that way."

Erik sighed, then nodded slowly. It still fucking stung that he'd never gotten adopted, and that he was now seeing how the process worked from the other side of things, but… Kyouka and Seilah had always put his needs - and the other kids in the orphanage - before everything else. It was why they didn't mind Macbeth wandering around at night when he had insomnia. It was why they allowed Lucy to sleep in Macbeth's bed after she was attacked. And it was the reason that Erik had found someone to talk to in Macbeth.

"Have you two discussed what you would want to do?" Kyouka asked gently. "Maybe imagined what your child would look like?"

Bickslow nodded, then lightly squeezed Erik's hand. "We're not picky," he said with a smile. "We've only got two things we're really looking for."

"No babies," Erik said slowly. "Neither of us want to change diapers. Besides, older kids have a harder time getting adopted, so..."

Kyouka laughed softly and made a small note on a spare sheet of paper. "Most people  _want_  babies," she said. "But, I understand. Luckily, there's a separate orphanage closer to the hospital that takes in babies. We don't. Seilah and I don't want to change diapers either."

Bickslow chuckled at the disgusted look on the older woman's face.

"What was the other one?" she asked.

"We're looking for a special one," Erik said, looking into her eyes pleadingly.

She blinked in surprise. "Special?" she asked. "As in…"

Erik gave her a sad smile. "Just like me, Bright Eyes, and Midnight. We never got adopted, and I wanna give a kid that really needs it that chance at having a family."

Kyouka smiled proudly. "Well, I'll call Seilah and have her bring that list in here. She wanted to see you anyway."

Not a moment later, the door to Kyouka's office opened with Seilah standing in the doorway. "I heard Erik was coming today," she said with a sweet smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "I thought you might be needing these."

Kyouka grinned. "Speak of the devil," she laughed.

Bickslow watched curiously as a much smaller file was laid on Kyouka's desk, then saw the shock on both women's faces when Erik stood to give the new occupant a hug. "I take it he didn't hug people much?"

"No," the other three answered in unison.

Seilah laughed softly. "Erik was never one for physical contact. Except with Lucy." She smiled at the young man that had once been in the orphanage. "We always thought he would be the one she married."

"You did," Kyouka added. "My money was on Macbeth."

The two men gaped at them. "Please tell me there wasn't  _actually_  money involved," Erik whispered. When all they did was smile, he shook his head. "That's just fucking wrong," he chuckled.

* * *

Erik and Bickslow looked at the picture of the five-year-old girl as Kyouka laid it on the desk. Deep violet hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes that were wide and clearly terrified, an adorable little button nose. She was thin, way too thin, but they were also looking at the picture that was taken of her after she'd been cleaned up in the hospital; just before she was brought to the orphanage. "What happened to her?" Bickslow asked softly.

"Well, we haven't been told everything that's happened to her," Kyouka said slowly. "She's been with us for two months now." She pulled out another picture, one that was taken the week before. "She's much healthier now. Physically, at least. But… She was purchased on the black market along with one other girl, Persephone. They were locked in a cellar, and chained to the ceiling. From what the doctors said, the girls were abused… We're still not sure to what extent. She won't talk to myself or Seilah about it."

Erik looked at the picture of the scared little girl, and felt his heart clenching painfully in his chest. "Chained to the ceiling?" he whispered. "As in… H-Hanging there?"

Kyouka nodded, then thumbed the other pictures in Angela's file. "We were given pictures of the cellar, but…"

"It might not be a good idea for you to see them," Seilah finished. "It's… It's very similar, Erik."

When Erik started worrying his lower lip between his teeth, Bickslow gently grasped one of his hands. "Coby, you don't need to look. And, we don't have to-"

"No," Erik whispered shakily, glancing at Bickslow before looking at the file on Kyouka's desk. "No, it's okay." She sighed and handed them the two pictures of where Angela had been found, and Erik felt his blood run cold while he looked at them.

_Dark walls with only a single bare lightbulb in the center of the room. A large spool of rope sat in one corner. Two pairs of heavy chains hung from the hooks in the ceiling, with thick shackles attached to them. A small bucket sat beneath each set of chains. Torn and bloody children's clothes hanging from a sink._

"Erik," Bickslow said softly. "Hey, it's alright…"

"I wanna meet her," Erik said suddenly, disregarding the way his body trembled in fear of what the little girl went through. His eye lifted to his husband, silently pleading with him to agree. Bickslow was seeing into a part of his past, something he had never really wanted to happen. But, the fact of the matter was, there were only four 'special' kids in the orphanage. One was on his way out to be hospitalized, because he was bordering on psychopathy - they'd been told that a few children had actually witnessed him killing a squirrel and operating on it, and smiling the while he started drinking the thing's fucking blood. There were Angela and Persephone, the two girls that came in together. Then a fourth they hadn't been told about yet. Once he saw her face, Erik wanted to meet her.

"Baby," Bickslow said gently, "It's not up to me…"

Erik turned to look at Seilah and Kyouka. "Please… I wanna meet her." He winced when Bickslow had to loosen his grip on his hand.

Seilah sighed. "Erik, she's probably not ready to be adopted yet. She still doesn't talk to anyone but Persephone, and I don't think she'll be comfortable being separated from her."

Erik shook his head quickly. "If we have to wait to adopt her, I don't mind. I'll wait as long as I…" He paused to look at his husband. It wasn't just about what he wanted. This was something they both had to agree on.

Bickslow chuckled softly, then tenderly rubbed a hand over the dark red silk dress shirt Erik was wearing, lightly massaging his shoulders. " _We'll_ wait as long as we need to," he corrected. When Erik grinned happily, he added, " _But_ … Maybe we should wait to meet her until they think she's ready…?"

"I never had this chance when I was a kid, Bix," he sighed. He didn't care that they were hashing it out right in front of the two women that would decide whether or not they were fit to care for Angela. What mattered was Bickslow understanding his point of view. "We're both well off, so it's not like we won't be able to afford taking her to doctors if she needs it. Neither of us are fucking psychotic, or trying to do the same shit to her. She's… Please… Can we just meet her first?"

When Bickslow nodded, Seilah and Kyouka shared a soft, proud smile over how much the man that had once been one of their most traumatized children had matured. He had grown into a handsome young man, even with the scar running down his face. He was able to have a stable relationship, and had even become a chemistry professor at the local university. Regardless of his sexual orientation - which, honestly, who were they to judge - he had married a good, stable man that came from a nice home. They had always hoped for this life for Erik, and now… Now he wanted to extend his family. He and Bickslow were willing to add to their family, to bring a little girl in that was just as damaged emotionally as Erik had been.

Kyouka nodded minutely to Seilah, then they looked at Erik again. "Well," Kyouka said slowly, "I think that can be arranged." She saw the barely contained concern in Bickslow's eyes, but what made her heart melt was the wide smile that was on Erik's face. She had never seen him smile like that. Ever.

As the group left the office and started making their way down the hall and further into the orphanage, Seilah quietly took her leave to break up a fight between some children. Erik was absolutely ecstatic, but he could see that Bickslow was wary. "You're the best husband ever," he whispered. "Thank you."

Bickslow chuckled and gently squeezed Erik's hand as their fingers laced together. "No problem, Coby. Just… We'll take it slow, okay?"

Erik nodded and let out a slow breath. He knew they needed to be careful, take their time, and make sure that Angela wasn't afraid of them. Still, he was so fucking happy just to have the chance to meet her. He knew what she had gone through, to a point, and he knew just how damn scary everything could seem. Still, he wanted to do this. He wanted to give her what took him years to find, a family. People that she could depend on, that loved her just the way she was.

They stopped at the door to the library that had been upgraded from a simple day room with a few bookshelves since Erik and the others had left to go to university. Bickslow searched the room, and his gaze finally fell on a head of shoulder-length violet hair that was pulled into low pigtails peeking over the side of a large recliner. "Is that…"

Kyouka nodded. "That's her. I'm surprised Persephone isn't with her though."

"I'm about to be," came the quiet reply from a small girl that walked out from between two bookshelves. She paused and stared at the two men curiously. "Who are you?"

Kyouka smiled down at the white-haired girl. "This is Dr. Erik, and Dr. Bickslow," she said gently.

Persephone's eyes narrowed. "Doctors?" she asked suspiciously. "She's not crazy, y'know."

"Never said she was," Erik answered. "But, we wanted to meet her and see if maybe she'd want to be adopted."

"By who?"

"Us," Bickslow smiled. "Do you think it'd be alright if we met her?"

Persephone shrugged, then tilted her head to the side. "Is your eye missing?" she asked Erik.

He nodded. "Yep."

"Was it some freak accident?"

"Sorta," he chuckled. "I grabbed the wrong vial in the lab. Learned my lesson about not wearing goggles though."

Her head tilted to the other side. "What kinda doctor are you?"

"I'm a chemist," Erik said, squatting down in front of Persephone so she didn't have to strain her neck to look at him. "I'm a teacher now though. Down at the big college."

"What about you?" Persephone asked Bickslow, watching as he crouched down as well. "Are you some freaky surgeon?"

"Nope. I teach at the same school as Erik."

"Whaddya teach?"

"Religion."

She scowled and took a step back. "Are you in a cult, or something?"

Bickslow chuckled and shook his head. "No. I teach classes about all kinds of religions, from all over the world. That way, people see that they aren't so different after all." He looked around, then leaned forward slightly and loudly whispered, "I'm not religious at all, but don't tell anyone."

Persephone's scowl melted slowly until she blinked and looked up at Miss Kyouka. "Are they gay?"

When Kyouka choked on her spit at the sudden question, Erik and Bickslow laughed. "Yes," Erik chuckled. "We're married, too. Is that alright with you?"

Persephone shrugged again. "Sure. You're still people and stuff. And plenty of girls like boys, so… I guess it makes sense that some boys would like boys too." She turned and looked over at Angela sadly, then back to the two men. "She won't talk to you though. Angie doesn't talk to anyone but me."

That was what Bickslow was worried about. How were they going to get to know the little girl if she wouldn't say a word to anyone aside from the child in front of them? While he was at a loss of what to do, Erik seemed to know just what to say.

"Well, why don't we just sit down and talk to you? Then she can talk if she wants to," Erik suggested with a smirk. "I bet she'll do it."

"How much you wanna bet?"

With a raised eyebrow, Erik pulled out a single bill from his wallet. "If she doesn't talk, you get this. And if she  _does_  talk…" He paused and hummed in thought. "Then… you have to… Play a game with me, Bickslow, and Angela."

Persephone's eyes narrowed again. "What game?"

Erik shrugged. "I'm not opposed to jump rope and hopscotch, but I prefer chess. How about you two choose the game?"

Kyouka watched as Persephone's keen neon green eyes flashed from suspicion to surprise before shutting down completely. The girl was definitely an interesting one. She protected Angela at every turn, talked for the both of them - while also pushing the purple-haired girl to speak on her own - and was alarmingly quick-witted for a five-year-old. And precocious. She didn't say a single word more to the two men, and instead just shook Erik's hand in silence while walking over to the large recliner that Angela was seated on. "You know how I feel about gambling, Erik," she chastised softly as he stood up with Bickslow.

Erik smirked. "Guess you shouldn't have bet money on me hooking up with Bright Eyes. I could've told you it was him all along." He took a seat on a couch that was across a small coffee table from the chair with the two girls, with Kyouka sitting on one side and Bickslow on the other.

Angela looked up from her book at the new people that were sitting across from her and Persephone. Her eyebrows drew together, then she glanced at her friend before looking back down at the book in her hands.

"Angie," Persephone whispered, lightly poking the silent girl. "Got some guys that wanna adopt you. Think maybe you wanna talk to them?"

Angela shook her head quickly.

"You sure?" Persephone asked. "They're doctors. But, not like  _doctor_  doctors, they're teacher doctors." She smiled when Angela frowned in confusion. "And that one's like a pirate," she whispered. "See? He's missing his eye…"

Erik watched as Angela leaned over and quietly whispered in Persephone's ear, then Persephone laughed.

"Yeah, he does have pretty eyes, huh?" Persephone turned to look at the two men. "Angie said she likes your eyes," she said to Bickslow.

Bickslow grinned. "Well, thanks," he chuckled. "I like your eyes too. They remind me of my sister-in-law's."

Erik's head tilted to one side, then he smirked. "Y'know… You're right. She does have Lucy's eyes, just blue."

Angela looked away and blushed, hiding her face behind her book.

"Angie," Persephone whispered, "Y'know… If you say something to them… They said they'll play a game with us. Whatever we want." She smiled when Angela looked at her again. "Don't you wanna play games with someone that's not just me?"

When Angela shrugged, Erik asked, "What kinds of games do you two play?"

Persephone looked expectantly at Angela, then sighed and said, "We usually stay inside, but we like playing cards, playing with dolls and stuff, and chess and checkers and that back game…"

"Backgammon?" Bickslow asked.

Persephone nodded. "Yep. That's the one."

"A-And…" Angela winced, looking around quickly to see that no one was staring at her at all. Everyone was still looking at Persephone, as though she hadn't said a word. "A-And hair…"

Erik slowly turned to look at the shy little girl, then a soft smile spread across his face. "Hair?" he asked gently. "Like, doing each other's hair?"

Angela nodded meekly. Persephone grinned at the shocked expression on Kyouka's face. "Angie, what game do you wanna play?" It didn't matter that she wasn't going to get that money Erik had offered her. If it meant that her best friend was going to open up to other people, then that was all that mattered.

Angela nibbled her lip for a moment, looking from the three adults across from them to her best friend. "H-Hair…"

Bickslow laughed quietly. "Sounds good to me," he said as the girls turned to look at him curiously, running a hand through his mohawk. "I think I need a new hairdo."

Erik nodded sagely. "Definitely." He turned to Angela then, and smirked. "I'm pretty sure I need some work done, too. Do you think you could help me?"

All three adults, and the white-haired girl, found themselves grinning when Angela let out a tiny smile and whispered, "Yeah, I think so."

* * *

Erik sighed sleepily while Bickslow's hands ran over his bare back. "You don't need to do this, Bixy," he whispered, turning his head to one side with a smile on his lips.

Bickslow chuckled, leaning down and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his husband's cheek. He sat back up and let his fingers trail lightly over the scars that covered his lover's back from being whipped and beaten when he was still a child. From his shoulders down to the waistband of his pajama pants - something that both of them had started wearing because they couldn't just be naked in the house anymore. Not with a five-year-old daughter running around. "You think she's sleeping alright?" he asked.

Erik shrugged as best as he could. "Not a clue," he answered. "But, I do know that it's really likely she'll have nightmares for a while."

It had been three months since Erik and Bickslow met with Angela for the first time. She had been willing to get the adoption process going after that first day, and it had broken both of their hearts when she begged them not to go without her. Luckily, they'd made a point of visiting her the next day, and every weekend until they were finally able to take her home. That three months had given the two of them time to get everything in the house ready for her though. There really wasn't much in the way of preparations anyway, aside from setting up her bedroom, but Bickslow and Erik had her come to the house with Kyouka a few times to test things out.

They found out that she didn't like knives being where she could see them, and would avoid them like the plague, so they got rid of the knife block on the counter and had them housed in a box on a shelf above the stove.

They hadn't bought a house that had a basement - because Erik had downright refused - but she was just as scared of the garage. They bought a child lock for the handle to the garage from inside the house, so she would know which door it was while she was still getting used to the place. That way, Angela could avoid it. Neither Bickslow, nor Erik, did anything that dealt with building things, so they didn't have to worry about chains or rope or power tools scaring the shit out of her. They made sure to put the single toolbox they had for minor repairs out of reach.

They took her to the store with them to choose everything for her room. Her bed, the bedspread, curtains, even the paint for the walls. Luckily, shopping for clothes for her was easy. Angela was a firm believer in jeans and t-shirts, and her favorite color was green. Slowly but surely, it had all become more real. Their house started feeling more and more like a home, when neither of them had thought it was missing anything to begin with. As it turned out, it was missing a child. Sure, that wasn't the case for everyone, but Erik and Bickslow both felt like their lives were a little more fulfilling when they were finally able to bring Angela home with them.

And now, it was her first night in her new bedroom, her new home. And it was her first night being away from Persephone since well before the girls were rescued from that cellar. Luckily, Macbeth and Lucy had heard about the relationship between the two, and adopted the little white-haired girl. They had apparently been on the same wavelength that Erik was when it came to adopting - they wanted a kid that they knew wouldn't get adopted otherwise, and Persephone was right there, waiting for someone to adopt her, just like her best friend was being adopted. It meant that they were going to be able to see each other as often as they wanted, for the most part. Especially since Lucy and Macbeth's house was just a five-minute drive down the road. The girls had come into the orphanage together, and they left together on the same day. Granted, they were in separate cars, but they were both going to loving homes, and their new parents were thick as thieves.

"Getting lost in thought again?" Bickslow chuckled softly as he kissed just between Erik's scarred shoulder blades.

"Just thinking about everything," Erik sighed, rolling over onto his back and smiling up at the man of his dreams. "And how fucking lucky we are."

Bickslow grinned and rubbed his hands over Erik's chest before lowering his head. Their lips brushed together, slowly intensifying as the seconds ticked by. Just as he was about to push his caramel-skinned lover's thighs apart for a little more fun, a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the silent air of the house.

"Shit," Erik hissed, pushing Bickslow off of him. "Go, I'll be there in a second."

Bickslow nodded and rushed out of the room while Erik pulled his shirt on - already knowing that his husband wanted to keep the worst of his scars hidden from their daughter until she knew about his own messed up past. He threw open the already ajar door to Angela's room, and barely took the time to flick the lights on while he ran to the bed. "Angie!" he shouted over her screams, trying to grab her flailing arms so neither of them would get hurt. "Angie, it's okay!"

Erik came into the room just as their daughter's teeth dug into Bickslow's arm.

"Fuck!" Bickslow screamed. "Oh, what the shit?!" Her little jaw was locked on his arm, putting more and more pressure even though he knew she'd broken through his skin.

Erik dashed into the room, then hooked his hand under her jaw and dug his fingers into her cheeks, forcing her grip to loosen enough for Bickslow to back away. She was like a wild animal, with darkened blue eyes, a little bit of blood dripping from her lips, and a snarl distorting her normally cherubic face. It didn't faze him in the slightest when she smacked and clawed at him, and all he did was grunt through clenched teeth when she bit his forearm.

Bickslow stared with wide eyes at the scene while holding a hand over his bleeding bicep. "What the hell is going on?! This isn't just a fucking nightmare!" When Erik was bitten again, only a few inches higher than the first bloody bite, Bickslow moved to help him.

"Just wait, Bix," Erik said calmly, holding out a hand while trying to get Angela's small hands in his grasp.

"Wait?!" he bellowed. "Just fucking  _wait_? Wait for what?!" He watched incredulously as his husband's arms wrapped around the little girl, trapping her arms to her slender frame so she couldn't slap him anymore. It didn't stop her from screaming. Or from headbutting Erik and splitting his lip. "Erik, this is fucked up! What the hell is..." Bickslow's words halted in an instant when a silencing glare was directed his way. This shit, whatever was happening, was beyond scary. It was like the little girl they'd met had disappeared entirely, and someone fed her little inner Mogwai after midnight.  _'Goodbye, Gizmo. Hello, Stripe!'_

He'd known she would have nightmares. Erik had been telling him for the past three months that Angela would probably be like he was - scared as hell and trying to get away from anyone who came too close. But this? This was worse than what he'd imagined. It was like the first time he and Erik had slept in the same bed. Just as violent, and just as heartbreaking. Maybe more, because he didn't have a fucking clue what he was supposed to do to help the little girl without possibly hurting her.

Luckily, he guessed, Erik did.

"Shh," Erik whispered. "It's okay."

"Go away!" Angela sobbed, struggling against the arms around her. "Lemme go!"

"We're not here to hurt you, alright?" Erik continued, his voice gentle and soothing. "You don't have to be scared anymore…" He sucked his lower lip into his mouth to staunch the bleeding from the split lip she gave him, carefully rocking from one side to the other. "No one's gonna hurt you now…"

"G-Go away!" she cried. "S-Stop!"

"No more cellars," Erik said as though she wasn't nearly busting out his eardrums with her terrified shrieking. He placed a cheek against the top of her head, and took a slow, steadying breath. "No more beatings, and  _no_  yelling. Right? We don't like yelling, do we?" He sighed when Angela shook her head. "Right, so no yelling."

Bickslow took a slow step forward when his eyes locked with Erik's single amethyst orb.  _'No yelling,'_  he thought sadly.  _'Was I just making it worse?'_  That had to be it. It had to be the reason that he'd gotten that glare of doom from the smaller man. Erik knew what Angela needed, and it left him feeling like a fish out of water. He just wanted to help their little girl, but he was lost. Granted, Erik really knew what she needed because he'd been through something similar, but that didn't make it an easier pill to swallow.  _'Just follow his lead. He'll teach you…'_

Erik nodded when he saw the Bickslow taking hesitant steps toward the bed. "You're a good girl, Angela," he whispered. "You are. No matter what any of those assholes said to you, you're a  _good_  girl."

When she started crying harder, and her will to get away from Erik died down, Bickslow sat down on the bed and carefully pulled her trembling hands into his. Bright, tear-filled blue eyes looked up at him in fear, and he offered her a small, comforting smile. "There's our special little girl," he whispered tenderly. "No need to be scared, okay?"

"I-I want…" she whimpered, her voice quaking just as much as the rest of her body. "I-I-I…"

Erik lifted his saddened gaze to his husband. He'd always admired Bickslow's ability to let things roll off of his shoulders, and yet again… He was surprised that someone as perfect as this was with him. Still, there was a bunch that he'd never told Bickslow. Specifically about his childhood and the orphanage. Bickslow had a general idea of what happened to him, how he was taken to the orphanage, and how he came to be friends with Macbeth, Lucy and, later on, Gajeel. He even knew that they were called 'special' because of the fucked up situation they came from, but Erik had never told him the reason Kyouka and Seilah used that word specifically, or what they told the kids with that little title.

Erik smiled down at Angela's byzantium hair. "Do you know why you're special?" he whispered, pressing his lips to the dark locks when she shook her head. He looked back up at Bickslow as he said, "Because you're still here. You're alive and you're okay. You're lucky that you're out of there now, but you're strong too. Because you made it out and you never gave up. That's what makes you special. Even when you're scared and crying, or if you hurt me and Papa, you're still special. And we still love you. You're gonna be just fine, I promise. We'll keep you safe forever."

Angela sniffled, then shied away from the feeling of Erik's hand lightly smoothing over her arm. "D-Don't touch me… It's b-bad…"

Bickslow lightly squeezed her hands, then stood up to get the box of tissues that was sitting on a small desk in the corner of her room. She hadn't really told them too much about what happened to her and Persephone in the cellar, but Erik had a general idea of what happened before she was bought. There were some sick freaks out there, that was for sure. The doctors that had checked her out when the police brought her in confirmed that  _something_  had happened, but they weren't able to say definitively what it was. He just hoped that she'd find a way to move past it all now that she was with them.

"Just your arm," Erik whispered. "You don't have to worry about that with me and Papa." He tenderly stroked her arm again. "See? Just your arm. You're safe now."

As soon as he was seated again, Bickslow lifted a tissue and gently wiped her small, blotchy cheeks. "Angela," he whispered as she hesitantly snuggled closer to Erik's chest, "Did you know that Daddy's special like you? Just like you…" When she frowned, he glanced up to see Erik's nose nestled in her hair while he continued rocking from side to side, his eye closed and his eyebrows pushed together. "Daddy has bad dreams too. Wanna know what makes him feel better?"

She whimpered and nodded.

Bickslow grinned and wiped her little reddened nose. "Warm milk and some cookies. Then lots and lots of cuddles in a big, fuzzy blanket." He couldn't help but chuckle when her little eyes lit up excitedly at the mention of cookies. "Do you wanna try that too?"

Angela nodded sheepishly. She was willing to try anything if it would make her less scared. After a moment, she looked up at Erik. "Daddy," she said softly, "Y-You're special, too? Like me and… And Percy?"

"I am," Erik answered, opening his eye to look at her. "And whenever you want me to tell you what happened, I will. Just… not tonight." He paused and smirked. "I think you've had a scary enough night. Dontcha think, Niblet?"

Angela blushed at the nickname and let out a small, stuffy laugh. "Yeah, Daddy. Not tonight."

Bickslow sighed happily when Erik's grip on her went slack, and the little girl crawled across the bed and into his lap. The maroon-haired man gave them a small smile, then left the room to make his way to the kitchen, and Bickslow tenderly kissed her forehead, then shifted so her arms could wrap around his neck while he stood from the bed. He paused in his trip to the living room to grab a king-sized fuzzy, fleece blanket from the master bedroom. Once it was dropped on the couch, he turned his head to look at the scared little girl that was clinging to him for dear life. "Wanna go help Daddy?"

Angela nodded.

Erik turned away from the counter with a large plate of cookies in his hand, and chuckled while handing it to the little girl once she and Bickslow were standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He grabbed a tray with three glasses of warmed milk, then followed them out to the living room. "Alright," he said gently, watching Bickslow and Angela sit down on the couch and settling the blanket over their laps. "Niblet's the one that had the bad dream, so she gets the cuddles."

Bickslow watched curiously as Erik set the tray of glasses down, then turned on the television and switched over from cable. Not a moment later, all three were settled on the couch, with Angela snugly tucked between her two fathers and the blanket covering all three of them with more to spare. He couldn't help but smile, but cocked a brow when he looked back at the screen. "You're calling Cosplayer?" he asked softly.

Erik smirked and leaned forward, grabbing the plate of cookies and a box of tissues. He held the plate out to their daughter and whispered, "Think you can be the cookie holder?"

She nodded happily and put the plate on her lap, then took an offered tissue to blow her nose when the call connected on the television.

Lucy's smiling face appeared on the screen. "Hey cuties! How's the first…" She paused, her smile falling when she saw the puffy blue eyes of the little girl tucked between Erik and Bickslow. "Angie, honey… What's wrong?"

Erik kissed the top of Angela's head when she shrunk in on herself a little, then grabbed a cookie from the plate in her lap and took a bite. "Bad dream," he answered for her. "We're doing her first cookie-cuddle night."

Lucy giggled, resting her chin on her hand. "You guys are still doing that too, huh?"

Bickslow nodded, then leaned down to whisper to Angela, "You remember Aunt Lucy, right?" When she nodded, he said, "She's the one that made cookie-cuddle night."

Angela nibbled her lip nervously while looking back up at the blonde on the screen. Of course she remembered Aunt Lucy. She and Uncle Macbeth were the ones that adopted Persephone, and she was the one that helped the two girls find clothes that fit properly. She was nice and sweet, and had such a warm smile that the girl couldn't help but do it herself. Slowly, she picked up a cookie from the plate and took a bite. "H-Hi, Aunt Lucy."

Lucy gave her a soft smile. "Hi, sweetie."

"Percy still up?" Erik asked.

The blonde shook her head. "She's in bed already, but-" Everyone's eyes went wide as a bloodcurdling scream tore through the air, filling the living room of the ones that were watching Lucy turn pale on the screen. Macbeth dashed through the background, and she jumped to her feet and rushed out of the view of the camera.

Angela sighed as Bickslow and Erik shared a look of concern. "Percy has them worse than me," she said, taking a small sip of milk when Bickslow handed her a glass. "She…" Her eyes shot to the television when the sound of small feet pounded closer and closer to the computer on the other end. Not a moment later, she was greeted with the sight of her best friend - and technically, cousin - with matted hair and tears streaming down her cheeks. "Percy!"

"A-Angie," Persephone cried. "You're okay!" She was lifted by a pair of slender arms, and her crying intensified as Lucy sat down in the chair again. The small girl curled up on the blonde's lap, and her head was nestled in Lucy's night shirt.

"Percy," Angela said softly, her brow pushed together, "It's okay. I'm right here with Papa and Daddy."

Bickslow sighed and set his own glass down on the end table to his right, then glanced at Erik to see him nuzzling the top of Angela's head while Lucy and Macbeth tried to calm their own daughter down. He hated that they had separated the girls when they were so close, and if they could have just adopted both of them, he knew they would have. Seilah and Kyouka had said that, because of what they'd gone through, it might be too much for him and Erik to handle both girls. But now they were seeing that the girls were truly attached to one another. They would probably have an easier time really transitioning to living apart if they were eased into it more. "Doodlebug," he whispered, smiling when those big blue eyes turned to look up at him. "Do you wanna have a sleepover? We're right down the road."

Her eyes went comically wide. "S-Sleepover?" she asked in wonder. "We… We can do that?"

Bickslow grinned down at her then looked at his husband. "Whaddya say, Coby? Sleepover for the girls?"

Erik's eye softened, the love for the crazy bastard he'd married shining through that single orb. "Hell yeah," he whispered, "Big family cookie-cuddle night." He looked back at the screen to find that the Heartfilias were in the much the same position that they were, with Macbeth and Lucy holding Persephone on their laps. "Midnight, you feel like driving?"

Macbeth shrugged, smiling when Persephone grabbed onto one of his white braids and started fiddling with the little bead closure at the end. "I don't mind it, why?"

Bickslow gave a tongue-lolling grin. "Sleepover at the Tamashi place. If you're up for it, that is."

Persephone sniffled and looked up at her parents. "C-Can I see Angie?" she whispered. "Please?"

Lucy smiled gently down at the little white-haired girl, then kissed her forehead. "Sure thing, sweetie. Let's get some stuff packed up, and we'll go over there."

When a bright smile spread across both girls' faces, Erik added, "Bring extra cookies. Your husband's a fatass that can't control his shit."

Macbeth scowled, narrowing his makeup-free eyes. "I would say 'Watch your language,' but…" He shook his head. "You're hopeless by this point…"

"Damn fuckin' right, I am…" When Macbeth rolled his eyes, Erik grinned. "Shitbox..."

"Just bring yourselves," Bickslow laughed. After a moment, he added, "Okay, and more cookies. We're good on milk, and you guys have a room here that's got some of your clothes and stuff. And the girls wear the same size."

Lucy nodded. "You got it. Get the fort ready." She smiled and blew the camera a kiss just before the connection cut off.

Erik carefully stood up from the couch with Bickslow, both of them tucking the enormous blanket around the girl and causing her to laugh. "So, Niblet," he said with a smirk, "We've got some weird traditions in the family."

"Weird, how?" she asked, taking a bite of another cookie. She watched curiously as her parents moved the coffee table off to one side of the room, pushing it up against a wall.

"Sometimes," Bickslow said with a smile, "Your Aunt Lucy and Uncle Macbeth come and stay the night, or we go over there. When someone has a bad dream, we all come out into the living room and do cookie-cuddles, then fall asleep together."

Erik smirked as he got ready to go get the supplies they would need. "We make a huge fort outta blankets and pillows on the floor. You'll see."

"Wanna help?" Bickslow asked, taking the glass of milk and plate of cookies from the young girl when she nodded.

Angela giggled when Bickslow wiped the crumbs from her face, but something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She turned and looked at his arm, then frowned when she saw that his arm was bleeding. And that it was coming from a bite mark that clearly came from her. "Papa," she whispered, lowering her gaze to the floor in shame as Erik walked back into the room, his arms piled high with pillows, blankets, and sheets. "Your arm is hurt…"

Erik set everything down on the couch, then handed the first aid kit he'd settled on top of the pile to Bickslow. "Here, Bix," he said. "Go ahead and get cleaned up." He saw Angela staring sadly at the two bandages wrapping around his forearm where she'd bitten him, and waved Bickslow off to the bathroom. After a short kiss and an encouraging smile, Bickslow made his way out of the room, and Erik knelt down in front of their daughter. "No worries, okay?" he whispered, hooking his finger under her chin and lifting her head to see tears shining in her eyes again. "We're not mad at you."

"But, you got hurt," she whimpered. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

He smiled at that. He didn't think it would ever get old hearing her call him 'Daddy' or Bickslow 'Papa'. When they had agreed to adopt her, both men had assumed she would just call them by their names until she was comfortable and really saw them as her parents. It was actually Angela herself that had decided what she was going to call them, and maybe a little bit of Persephone. She'd even told them, only a month after they'd met her, that she couldn't call both of them 'Dad' because it would get too confusing, but he never would have thought she would choose what she had. "I forgive you, Niblet. And I know Papa does, too. You didn't mean to hurt us, and you were scared."

She let out a heavy sigh and turned to grab one of the pillows that had been set down. Her lower lip trembled only slightly, but she gave her one-eyed father a hopeful look. "Can I still help?"

He chuckled, grabbing another pillow. "Hell yeah. Pillows around the edge of the rug, alright?" When she nodded in determination, he placed the pillow in his hands on the floor, then went about unfolding one of the sheets while she made the perimeter, placing each pillow end to end perfectly. They spread the sheet out over the pillows, tucking the edges under after flattening it out from the center. Several body pillows were laid down inside the perimeter, and it wasn't until they were putting a fitted sheet over all of it that she spoke again.

"Papa said you have bad dreams, too."

"I do."

"Have you ever hurt him?" she asked timidly. "Because of the dreams?"

Erik pulled her to stand next to him, setting the blanket down. "A few times," he answered sadly as Bickslow walked back out, his arm cleaned and wrapped in a fresh bandage. "But your Papa  _always_ forgives me for it, because he knows I'm just scared. I would never hurt him willingly." He paused and sighed while smiling at his husband. "I love him too much."

Bickslow smiled gently at the two, moving the coffee table and end tables to the edges of their fort. "Not a lot can scare your Daddy," he added. "He's usually the one scaring people. Making all kinds of grumpy faces, and using all those bad words… Shame on you, baby."

Erik scowled and flipped Bickslow a lovely one-finger salute. "Fuck you, Bixy," he grumbled.

"Oh, Coby," Bickslow crooned, "You wound me!"

"Oh, I'll fuckin' wound you, dickbreath…" When he heard Angela giggling, Erik's gaze was drawn to her, a his face softening into a small smirk. "What's so funny, Niblet?"

"You two," she laughed. "You really love each other, huh…"

Bickslow made his way over to the center of the fort, wrapping his arm around Erik and pulling Angela into their embrace. "Of course we do," he chuckled. "We're soulmates."

Erik rolled his eye, but still laid his head on Bickslow's chest. "This coming from the Jesus Doctor."

"That's Doctor Jesus to you, Snake Whisperer," Bickslow laughed.

"Zoroastrian Zealot."

"Toxic Tonsils."

"I don't have tonsils," Erik shot back. "Fucking pandemian Pagan."

"Caught me there," Bickslow laughed.

Angela smiled when she watched them share a small kiss. Erik never really smiled from what she could tell, but it was happening a lot that night. For most of the day too, when she thought about it. She didn't mind that her dad used curse words all the time. He was an adult, so it was okay for him to say it. He seemed really angry all the time when she'd seen him talking to pretty much anyone else. Even the nice lady at the store when they bought everything for her bedroom. It seemed that Bickslow was the one that always smiled, while Erik was the one that always frowned. One was laughing constantly, joking and teasing. The other was mean and constantly cursing - well, he only acted mean, from what she'd noticed.

Still, she was glad that they had come along and adopted her, and that Persephone was adopted by Lucy and Macbeth. Her eyes cut over to the front door when she heard it opening, and she pushed herself between Erik and Bickslow just a little more.

"Honey, I'm home," Macbeth called out as he walked into the living room, Persephone in his arms and Lucy just behind him. Once he saw the two men and their daughter in the middle of the fort, he smiled and carefully set his daughter down on her feet. "Take off your shoes, Persephone."

She whirled around, looking for her best friend, then grinned and kicked her sneakers off while stumbling through the living room. Once she was close enough, Persephone dove into the air and tackled Angela to the ground, causing the two men that were holding her to back away as quickly as possible. "Angie!"

Macbeth laughed as he took two bags from Lucy's hands and walked toward the kitchen. "I think they've got the basics of cookie-cuddling down."

Lucy sighed when Erik and Bickslow took the last two bags from her, both of them giving her questioning looks. She followed her husband and brothers into the kitchen, as she said, "We had to pick up some almond milk, since Percy's lactose intolerant."

Erik nodded while putting one of the two cartons in the refrigerator. "Okay, that explains the milk, but…" He eyed the two bags that Macbeth set down on the counter and was in the process of emptying.

"That's a lot of cookies," Bickslow snickered.

Lucy's arms crossed under her chest, and she stuck her tongue out at the blue-haired goober. "I decided that we needed a bigger selection of cookies. You guys only ever have chocolate chip."

"Because it's a fucking staple," Erik said sagely.

Macbeth blinked slowly while Bickslow pulled out two glasses and a coffee cup. "Erik, staples in the kitchen are things like rice, pasta, flour, and sugar… Not chocolate chip cookies."

Erik rolled his eye while pouring Persephone's drink in the coffee cup, humming into the soft kiss Bickslow pressed to his lips as he moved to heat up the milk for Macbeth and Lucy. "We've got those, dick fingers," he said with a glare at his (still) narcoleptic best friend. "But chocolate chip cookies are just as important."

Lucy smiled. "Well, it's time for some variety. The girls get to try some other cookies. Like…  _Oreos_ ," she crooned, holding up the emptied container for the other two men to see.

"Holy shit," Bickslow gasped. "They make  _Triple_  Stuffed… Oh god, heaven  _is_  real..."

Erik chuckled and rolled his eye. "Again, you teach religion… But you're an atheist."

"Agnostic," Bickslow corrected around a mouthful of cookie goodness. "I'm open to the possibility of it, but I need proof."

"Souls though," Lucy added while grabbing a plate of cookies. "He does believe in souls and soulmates."

"Of course I do," Bickslow said plainly. "How could I not when I've got this sexy bastard in my life? Beautiful damn soul and all."

Macbeth smirked. "You act like you can see it, Bickslow."

He grinned then. "I can. It's magnificent." When Erik raised an eyebrow at him, he chuckled and pulled the smaller man into his chest. "Every time you look at me," he whispered tenderly, "I see your soul, baby. Takes my breath away."

Lucy sighed wistfully and laid her head on Macbeth's shoulder. "You two are precious…" She shook her head happily as Bickslow winked at her. "C'mon, let's get out to the girls."

Once everything was ready, Erik sent Bickslow, Lucy, and Macbeth back out to the living room to finish setting up while he walked back into the bedroom. It only took a moment to find what he was looking for, and he came back out only to pause with a soft smile on his lips at the sight before him. Angela was cuddled up to Persephone in the center of the fort with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders. Lucy and Macbeth were laid out on their stomachs within reach of the cookie plate that was sitting in front of the girls, their own deep red blanket draped over them. Bickslow was lying on his side with another large blanket over his legs, watching the doorway with surprised eyes once he saw what Erik had in his hands.

"Whatcha got, cutie?" Bickslow asked curiously.

Erik smirked and made his way over the limbs and bodies, then plopped down while Lucy changed the screen on the television to a movie for the girls to watch. "Just a little something," he whispered. "Niblet."

"Yeah, Daddy?" Angela asked sweetly, turning to look at him. Her eyes widened when she was greeted with the sight of a large purple plush snake with bright green eyes in his hand. "What's that?"

"Aw," Lucy cooed, "You brought out Cubellios?"

Erik nodded, then handed the plush to his daughter. "Your Aunt Lucy gave her to me when we were still in the orphanage. We were only a year older than you girls." He smiled when she hesitantly took the plush, then held it to her chest lovingly. "I'd say she could use some good cuddling. She just sits on a shelf in mine and Papa's room nowadays."

"I'll cuddle with her," Angela grinned. "Percy, too."

Persephone nodded. "Definitely. She looks just like us! Purple scales like Angie's hair, and green eyes like mine!"

"That's awesome," Macbeth yawned with a grin, snorting when Lucy poked his side to wake him up.

Angela crawled over to Erik as he laid down next to Bickslow, then wrapped her arms around his neck with a grin. "Thank you, Daddy. I never had a stuffed animal before."

Bickslow propped his head on one hand with a wide smile, watching as Angela kissed Erik's scarred cheek. When she looked up at him, he was surprised to find her leaning forward to kiss his cheek as well. "Love you, Doodlebug," he whispered.

Angela blushed when she heard Erik say, "Love you, Niblet," at the same time.

Without any hesitation, she hugged her fathers again. "I love you, too," she whispered happily, seeing their eyes - or eye in Erik's case - soften while they looked at her. She was special, just like they'd told her, but so were her new parents. Not just because of what happened in the past, but because they had brought her home with them, and they understood her. She could tell they weren't mad about her nightmare, or that she accidentally bit them when they were just trying to help her. Instead, both her fathers and the sweet couple that adopted Persephone seemed to know just what to do for the girls. They were the special ones. At least, to Angela they were. Those four had saved herself and Persephone from being in that orphanage forever. Maybe one day, she'd tell her dads about the fact that she and Persephone were actually stolen from an orphanage in the first place. It was where they had been before being put up for auction, before those men had locked them in a cellar.

As she and Persephone curled up with Cubellios on the mound of pillows, blankets, and sheets, Angela found herself smiling. It only grew wider when their parents moved to cuddle up next to them. Erik's arm wrapped around her, and Bickslow's wrapped around both of them. A glance over showed Macbeth's arm around Lucy and Persephone, with the blonde holding onto their daughter and gently grasping Erik's hand over both of the girls. Even though she wanted to stay awake and watch the movie with everyone, Angela found her eyelids getting heavier as the minutes ticked by.

"Sweet dreams, Niblet," Erik yawned quietly.

"Sweet dreams, Doodlebug," Bickslow whispered.

"Mmm," Angela hummed softly. "Sweet dreams..."

"Sweet dreams, honey," Lucy said while kissing Persephone's hair.

"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," Macbeth chimed in gently.

"Sweet dreams," she answered.

The two girls smiled at each other, then let their eyes drift closed.  _'Daddy was right,'_  Angela thought. She was safe and loved now. She was strong for making it out of there alive. She and Persephone had a family that would keep them happy and protected. They wouldn't have to worry about any of what happened before, because she already knew that these people that had adopted them… They wouldn't let the girls get hurt ever again.

 


End file.
